


Whispers In The Dark

by AstroLatte



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Court Drama, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Drinking Games, Eloping, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, House Party, House building, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Kosmo is here!, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Past Lance/Allura, Post S8, Post-Canon, Recreational Drug Use, Sleepy Kisses, Smoking, mentions of Allura/Lotor, post canon klance, post-s8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-22 13:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22216504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstroLatte/pseuds/AstroLatte
Summary: “Keith, can I ask you something?”After being faced with an impossible choice, Keith runs away to Lance's family farm to escape his looming responsibilities on New Daibazaal, helps Lance build a house, and learns what it means to have a home.
Relationships: Acxa/Veronica (Voltron), Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 120
Kudos: 540
Collections: After the Credits Klance, Just some pretty nice fics





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends! 
> 
> Welcome to Whispers In The Dark! Some of you may remember this little bit from Insta, but now this fic will live in its entirety on AO3.
> 
> To whet your appetite, I wanted to share this prologue. This fic will be a scheduled posting every Sunday, starting on February 9th.
> 
> Enjoy!

"Keith, can I ask you something?"

The question floats around them in the chilly, darkness of the night. It is lingering above the bed, like a mobile or one of those old glow-in-the-dark sticky stars that used to be in the bedroom of one of his foster families. 

It's summer on Earth, and the old farmhouse is humid and hot even at night. There's a near-constant layer of sweat on Keith's body, which he ignores as he lays next to Lance, their skin stuck together in the heat.

It took Keith exactly one week and three days to start sharing the cramped twin bed with Lance. Their shoulders are smashed together, the coolness of the night air tickles against the exposed skin of Keith's forearm from where his nightshirt has rolled up. On the floor, Kosmo snores softly.

"You technically just did."

Lance shoves into his arm, still not turning to face him. 

"Do you think Allura was the love of my life?"

The question sits between them in the darkness. Hiding is one thing—it's something Keith is remarkably good at, but he can't lie. Especially not to Lance.

"No," he says simply, closing his eyes. The bluntness is intentional, a way to get Lance off this line of questioning. He hopes its enough to get Lance to drop whatever thoughts are running through his head, but he's known him for long enough to know that's not how Lance's mind works. 

Lance's mind is like a record player stuck on a loop, and he can always feel when it's begun to run faster and faster. He starts talking quickly and asks too many questions that are borderline aggravating. The last time this happened was yesterday during one of their petty arguments about mulch, of all things.

The first year home had been long and hard, with Lance being pulled to Altea and Keith to New Daibazaal. Between them sat Earth and Lance's family farm, which provided a retreat from hard decisions like the future of the universe with more manageable tasks like caring for livestock and harvesting crops. 

At first, it was clear the farm served as a tactical retreat for Lance, a place for him to heal his broken heart and recover from a war that had ripped so much away from him. With a family as large as his, it was only a matter of time before their energy sucked Keith and Acxa into their orbit.

"And you're thinking too much," Keith scolds, eyes still closed. "I can hear it from here."

"You're not that far away," he hears Lance mumble, and it's enough to make Keith open his eyes just to roll them. "And why don't you think she was the love of my life?"

Keith rolls to his side, shifting himself, so he's facing Lance in the bed, where Lance has already adjusted himself. On his cheeks, his marks are prominent, but now are something Keith has gotten used to after seeing them every day for so long. He wonders if Lance feels the same about the scar that marks his cheek from his fight with Shiro.

"Because she left you," Keith says finally, his hand grasping the pillowcase under his head. "The love of your life wouldn't leave you."

Keith realizes the irony of his statement and quickly adds, "And if they did leave, they would come back."

Lance laughs humorlessly. "You think I'm someone worth coming back to?"

"It was enough to bring me back," Keith says, voice full of honesty that seems so simple in the dark. The words flowing out of him like water from a spring. "To bring me here and keep me here."

"Is it?" he asks and rolls onto his back to stare at the ceiling. "Or are you running away from something else?"

Keith doesn't know how to answer the question, so he doesn't. He keeps quiet until Lance sits up, smacking Keith's thigh (and leaving his hand there, slowly killing him), signaling him to sit up too.

"C'mon, it's too hot to sleep here," Lance says, voice soft in the night. He climbs over Keith, giving him a show of his stomach and pecs under his sleep shirt. It takes all the willpower Keith has to keep from reaching up and touching him.

When he lands, Lance hops a bit to gain his balance before shuffling around his bedroom. He pulls out a drawer from his desk, rummaging through its contents before finding whatever he is looking for and putting it in his pajama pants pocket. Then he leaps back on the bed, nearly kneeing Keith in the crotch.

"Watch it!"

Lance throws a smug look over his shoulder, moving to the window and shimming it open. "I am. Relax."

"Lance, it's too late for your bullshit, I'm going to sleep."

"Jokes on you," Lance teases, poking Keith with a bony foot. "Summer at the McClain Ranch means I'm on my peak bullshit. Now shut up and follow me."

Keith groans, because it's easier than fighting. He follows him out the window because it's also easier than fighting. 

He hoists himself onto the roof, kicking off the side of the house as leverage. Lance snorts a chuckle through his hands, and Keith puffs his bangs out of his eyes from the exertion.

"Don't!"

"I didn't even say anything yet."

"You... _ugh_...were thinking it!" Keith grits, finally getting himself up over the side and onto the roof. Lance leans back on his hands, cocking an eyebrow.

"You good, dude?"

Keith flips him off before crawling to where Lance is sitting. He runs his hands through his hair absentmindedly, and the cool night air whisks away the constant layer of sweat he's gotten used to since he came to the farm.

"Our house is old, and air conditioning is a luxury," Lance explains, reaching into his pocket. "But once we finish my house, I'm definitely installing central air. It's insane that it's cooler outside the house than in it!"

Keith's eyes land on Lance's as he pulls out a pack of cigarettes, slamming the end of the box on the heel of his hand. He pulls one out with his lips and tilts the carton toward Keith, wordlessly. There's Altean script on the front of the package.

"You picking up self-sabotaging habits post-war?" Keith notes, taking one and slipping it between his lips. "Maybe Veronica's right, and I am a bad influence on you."

"That ship sailed a long time ago." Lance laughs humorlessly, pulling out a lighter. When he exhales, smoke exits his nostrils like a dragon. 

Before Keith can ask to borrow his light, Lance leans forward using the tip of his cigarette to light the cigarette Keith has between his lips. It's not the most efficient means to light a cigarette, but it means Lance's lips are _close_ to his, and the fluttering that starts in his chest feels good. Once it's lit, Lance pulls back, and the longing floods Keith almost instantly. Then the lightheadedness hits him like a wave causing his pulse to speed up. His brows knit together, trying to focus.

"These aren't just tobacco, are they?"

Lance winks in response, pulling his own cigarette from his lips to puff out three small smoke rings. Keith lets out a long exhale, flicking ashes over the edge of the roof.

That idiot would learn smoke tricks.

"Talking about Allura just really...bummed me out," Lance confesses between puffs, sad eyes landing on Keith. "I don't do this a lot, but sometimes it helps."

Keith nods, feeling his muscles already start to relax. He leans forward, so his elbows are on his knees, grounding himself. 

He swears he sees Lance scoot closer, but ignores it to take another drag.

Lance's eyes flutter half-closed as he continues blowing smoke tricks. Keith watches, hungrily, as his lips part, and the smoke slowly billows out into the open air in front of him.

"I'm happy you're here," Lance says softly, eventually resting his head on Keith's shoulder.

Keith isn't brave enough to say what he really feels, so he pats Lance affectionately on the head. When he starts to card his fingers through the soft tresses of his hair, Lance doesn't complain.

Later that night, Keith wakes up from a nightmare with a gasp, eyes wide as he stares at Lance's bedroom ceiling. The plastic, glowing stars stare back at him. He sits up, trying to catch his breath as he grounds himself. 

The soft pink light of the early morning sun peaks through Lance's still open window.

He turns to his side and sees Lance, sleeping peacefully on his side, arm still outstretched from where Keith was curled around it. 

Swallowing hard, Keith allows himself to lay back down as Lance's arms automatically coil around him. His cheek presses into the middle of Keith's chest. It's an indulgence Keith allows himself to enjoy, even though he knows he's playing with fire.

Softly, he presses the pads of his fingers to his own lips, kissing them, before floating down to caress Lance's pouting bottom lip with a featherlike touch.

An indirect kiss that burns hot to the touch.

He drifts back to sleep.

*****

Keith wakes up first. 

He works on disentangling himself from Lance's hold before climbing out of bed. He steps over a still sleeping Kosmo to pull on his pajama pants over his boxers and throws on one of Lance's old "Galaxy Garrison" sweatshirts before padding downstairs. Quietly, he begins to make some tea, as the cold chill of the morning wraps around the farmhouse.

The kettle has just finished whistling when he hears the shuffling sound of slippers against hardwood as someone else enters the kitchen. Keith turns and sees that it's Lance's mother, her hair still messy from sleep, soft robe wrapped tightly around her nightgown. 

"Good morning, Keith," she greets, taking a seat at the table. "You're up even before me."

"Morning, Mrs. McClain," he says, still a little uncomfortable around Lance's parents. He is a guest in their home, and here he is making tea with their kettle. "I hope I didn't wake you? Uh...would you like some tea?"

"That would be lovely."

Keith nods and begins making her a cup in silence. He hears Lance's mother hum a song under her breath as she flips through a magazine that was left on the table. When he brings her the cup of tea, she takes it with a grateful smile.

"Thank you, dear," she says, taking a sip. Her eyes widen. "You remembered the extra sugar cube?"

"Yeah, Lance likes his the same way," he answers automatically, taking a seat at the table, then freezes once the words are out of his mouth. 

Keith bites the inside of his cheek, wondering if spilling his own hot tea into his lap would be a good enough excuse to leave the kitchen and walk to his ship to never come back again. He can sense her trying to hide her smile as she sips her tea and thankfully continues the conversation. 

"How's your mother doing?"

"She's doing well. Busy rebuilding Daibazaal and all that."

"And you're not with her?"

"I…I..." Keith stammers, eyes glued to his rapidly cooling tea. "I'm taking a break."

"Hm," Lance's mother hums before taking a sip of her tea and glancing out of the bay window. "You boys are making good progress on the house. 

"Yeah, Lance should be able to move in within the month." Keith nods, happy to be on a new topic. "But he'll still need furniture and appliances."

"It seems big for one person," she replies, almost absentmindedly. "I wonder what he's looking to fit in there. I hope it's not old memories."

Keith isn't sure what she means and doesn't get a chance to ask, because Lance is making his way down the stairs, Kosmo padding along behind him and making the stairs creak. He wanders his way into the kitchen with a yawn, rubbing his hand against a blue mark. 

"Good morning," he greets, scratching his chin where a light stubble has formed overnight. He turns to Keith, and his eyes soften, making Keith's heart drop in his chest before jumping up into his throat. "Ready to finish my house, Keith?"

"Uh...yeah."

"No one is building anything on an empty stomach." The chair screeches as Lance's mother kicks herself back from the table. "You boys sit, and I'll make you some breakfast."


	2. Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's eyes land on his bag that was thrown in the corner of the room, where Kosmo sits enjoying the sunlight from the window. In it is his cell phone that's been upgraded with a location scrabbler to stay untraceable. On it are two dozen ignored calls from his mother and near a hundred texts from Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid that he refuses to answer. He shrugs, "Got nowhere else to be."

They've just finished putting up the final bit of drywall when Lance says it.

"So, I think I'm bi."

Keith swallows hard to keep from spitting his water across the room, completely floored that the guy who's entire shtick for nearly three years was female-focused is suddenly having an epiphany about his sexuality. 

Instead, he dumbly responds with, "Oh? Cool."

Lance stares, and Keith turns around to face the other wall, pretending to inspect it. He hears a sigh.

"Is that all you're gonna say?"

Keith shrugs. "What do you want me to say, Lance?"

"I don't know," he admits, his voice hesitant. "At least when I told Shiro he congratulated me."

"Well, congratulations." Keith lifts his hand to take another swig of his water before pausing. He spins around to face Lance. "Wait. You told Shiro about this?"

"Yeah? He's gay."

"I'm gay, too!"

"Sure, but you're always in space."

"What does that mean? Am I not gay in space?"

"Obviously, that's not what I mean!"

"So what _do_ you mean, Lance?"

"It just...never came up during our calls! And you're always busy, so I didn't think I should interrupt you with this!"

Keith frowns, his water bottle crinkling with the intensity of his grip. "I'm here now."

"Yeah, you are." Lance nods, looking back at him. His cheeks pinken slightly, contrasting with the blue of his marks. It must be from overexertion and not embarrassment. "Are you leaving anytime soon?"

Keith's eyes land on his bag that was thrown in the corner of the room, where Kosmo sits enjoying the sunlight from the window. In it is his cell phone that's been upgraded with a location scrabbler to stay untraceable. On it are two dozen ignored calls from his mother and near a hundred texts from Acxa, Ezor, and Zethrid that he refuses to answer.

He shrugs. "Got nowhere else to be."

Lance's face lights up, and Keith needs to lean against one of the ladders to keep from being physically affected by how happy he looks. 

He really is a goner.

"Cool!" Lance cheers, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I was gonna ask if you would...um...wanna help me move in? It's a pretty big spot, and you know how many extra rooms I'm gonna have. Seems like a shame to waste them, y'know?"

Keith takes a long drink of his water, emptying the bottle before exhaling. He wipes the back of his hand against his mouth.

"Are you asking me to move in with you?" 

Lance blushes at this, full-on tomato red. He does that cute thing he does when he's embarrassed, turning to the side with a huff. 

"I just have room," he grumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Don't make it weird."

"I'm not making it weird."

"Totally making it weird."

Keith huffs, turning around to start on another patch of wall. "I'll think about it."

The grin that spreads across Lance's face is infectious. "So, that's not a no?"

"It's an _I'll think about it_." Keith picks up his toolset, and Lance comes up next to him, still smiling.

"It's not a no."

And he's right.

*

The house is still not ready, so it's another night of sleeping in Lance's childhood bedroom.

This time they're both leaning out the window, sharing a proper joint. The burn in Keith's chest brings him back to his Garrison days, even though Lance promised whatever they were smoking was Altean and, therefore, better.

It makes Keith think of Allura again, and he instantly hates himself because, after years, he thinks he'd stop tarnishing her memory with his jealousy.

They’re at the end of the joint, watching Kosmo explore the grounds from their perch at Lance’s bedroom window. 

“I think your wolf likes my cow.”

Keith snorts, elbowing him. “You’re fucking high.”

He's also concerned that Lance is trying to annoy his family into submission with the smoking, and they'll finally give him some more help with his house. It doesn't seem to be working, and this Altean-whatever they're smoking is just billowing pink smoke into the night air.

"I wanna try a trick, but I can't do it by myself," Lance announces after Keith begins coughing up the pink smoke. He turns to him, the joint between his lips. “You down?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” Lance prepares to take a drag. “Just breathe it in.”

He's about to ask what he means when Lance leans forward, mouth hovering inches from his lips. 

Keith freezes, his heart pounding in his rib cage. Lance is holding the smoke in his mouth and taps his thumb on Keith's bottom lip until he opens up. He obeys because he always does. He can never deny Lance anything. 

Lance lets the smoke out of his mouth, and Keith closes his eyes to breathe in and let Lance fill his lungs. Keith knows if he leans just a little bit closer, he can press his lips to Lance’s and finally unleash the secret that’s been eating him alive since he was a teenager. 

But he doesn’t.

Keith exhales the smoke when Lance leans away with heavy eyelids and a grin on his face. 

He doesn’t cough this time. 

“How’s that?” Lance wiggles his eyebrows as if he’s accomplished far more than a simple shotgun kiss. Keith shrugs, pushing himself off the window to stand in front of the bed.

“It was okay.”

“Only okay? That was some smooth moves, Kogane!”

“You just blew smoke in my mouth, and it wasn’t anything _that_ impressive,” Keith says, leaning against the front of Lance’s bed while he cleans up the evidence of their smoking. He’s doing it to get a rise out of Lance, and he loves that it’s working. After all these years, he still knows exactly which buttons to press to set him off. 

“Then let me do it again!” Lance demands, leaning away from the window to pull Keith back to the window. “C’mon!”

“No, I’m tired.” Keith leans away, so he’s tipping back against the bed. He’s definitely higher than he usually likes to be, but if he sleeps it off, he’ll be fine. Lance pouts, putting the end of the joint to his lips as he takes a final drag. “Are you pouting, you big baby?”

Lance ignores him and opens his mouth just enough that Keith catches the puff of smoke dispel from between his lips. At first, he thinks it’ll just be another smoke ring, but when it floats through the air towards Keith, it shifts midair into a pink, fluffy heart. It hits Keith right in the face, making him cough so hard he loses his balance and falls backward onto the bed with a _thump_.

Lance snickers above him as he puts his smoke kit back in the drawer and flops next to Keith on the bed, turning over, so he’s on his side, sharing the same pillow as Keith. He reaches up, cupping Keith's face and lifting his chin. 

"Hey," he whispers, running the pad of his thumb across Keith's bottom lip. 

"Hi," Keith replies, too fazed to react. Instead, he enjoys the feeling of Lance all around him.

"Your lips are chapped. It makes them hard to kiss."

Keith's eyes feel heavy as they half-close. "Then, don't kiss them."

It takes less than a tick, and Lance glances down, his breath hot against Keith's lips. He swallows, and Keith can't help but be transfixed by the bobbing of his throat. The room feels like a sauna, and against his better instincts currently lost in the haze of his high, Keith adjusts so he can feel Lance's knee between his legs, brushing up against the hardness he knows is there. In the darkness, Lance gasps, eyes glued to Keith's face as his cheeks blush. He moves his knee slightly, pulling a moan from Keith's soul.

“Oh,” Lance says, voice low and cracking. “ _That's_ new.”

“N-not for me,” Keith manages, eyes fluttering closed with a sigh when Lance moves his leg again, this time with more confidence. 

“Is this a Galra thing?” Lance asks because even when Keith is humping his leg in his childhood bedroom, he can't be silent. He shudders, and Lance clicks his tongue. “I'm barely doing anything.”

Keith ignores him, sighing as Lance continues to stroke him, any thoughts that would have normally stopped him leave his mind under cover of darkness.

“Keith,” he breathes, eyes fluttering closed. “If this isn't okay-”

“It is,” Keith says, cutting him off and pressing his forehead to Lance’s. “I want this...I've wanted this...”

It’s true. He's wanted it since before he came to Lance's family's house as a means to escape the pressure of Daibazaal. He's wanted it since before Lance's sparkling blue eyes folded him into a hug. He's been waiting for this since before Lance's nervous sobbing in his sleep lead Keith to climb into bed with him.

Lance stops, and Keith's eyes fly open, ready to scold him for teasing him when he sees the look in his eyes, the darkening of the blue like the ocean at night surrounded by a bloodshot red rim. The ocean Lance took him to see since it was a short car ride from the farm. The way Lance's eyes had sparkled at the waves when he raced him to the water had made his heart jump into his throat.

“Wow,” he whispers, breath shaky as he pulls down the waistband of Keith’s sweats. Keith can't help but blush as he turns away into the pillowcase.

"Well, I think we've established you're at least a little gay."

Lance's eyes shine, and his marks underneath glow softly. He leans in as if to kiss him, but Keith buries his face further into the pillow before he can know for sure. 

Lance pauses, and after a moment, seems to get the message. He sticks his tongue out, and at first, Keith thinks he's trying to be cute (it’s working) until he leans down and licks the sweat from his chest. Keith's face flushes as Lance begins to make his way down his chest and stomach, licking and sucking until red marks blossom on his skin, brushing calloused fingers across his nipples. Lance takes his time, running his wet tongue over the mounds of soft skin and lean muscle until he gets to his goal. 

Closing his eyes, Keith does his best to memorize the feeling, unsure if this will ever happen again. 

There's a chance he may even be dreaming now, too.

･ ｡ ☆∴｡ * 

･ﾟ*｡★･ 

･ *ﾟ｡ 

･ ﾟ*｡･ﾟ★｡ 

☆ﾟ･｡°*. ﾟ * 

｡·*･｡ ﾟ* 

The next morning Keith wakes up in fresh pajama pants with an armful of Lance McClain. He's overwhelmed and terrified, but also the most relaxed he's ever been since returning to Earth.

Lance's soft breaths tickle the hairs on Keith's chest, but he doesn't dare move. He reaches down to run the pad of his thumb across the soft skin of Lance's marks. 

There's no reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! I'm playing with some formatting and seeing how it all fits. Hopefully, it works?
> 
> The next chapter will be up on Sunday, February 16th! Happy early valentines day ~
> 
> Find me on twitter @Astro_Latte and Tumblr Astrolatte!


	3. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His kiss, steeped in a craving that ignites like tinder in a forest fire, is a promise of real passion. With it, he reminds Lance that he's alive, that they're both alive, and they're here now. They're together, and even if Lance is a lot, Keith is capable of loving him more than he's ever thought possible. It's like a chasm within him that has no bottom; it can hold magnitudes. Lance can burn as bright as he needs to, and Keith will be there because he loves all of him. 
> 
> He will always love Lance McClain.

Keith has no idea how to install windows, but somehow they’re managing pretty well, all things considered.

They’ve just finished installing the top floor and are huddled in the wide-open space that will eventually be a dining room - or was it a living room? Keith can’t keep up; it’s not his house. 

“What the hell are you gonna do with all this space?” he asks, taking a swig of water while Lance adjusts the dials of an old radio they’ve been listening to all day. They’re in Cuba, so all the stations are in Spanish. From where he’s napping on the floor, Kosmo’s tail is swaying to the music.

He’s stopped wearing the universal translator in his ear that he had gotten from the Blades. He’s fine not understanding anything for once. 

“It won’t look as big once there's furniture in here,” Lance explains, tapping his foot to a station that seems to play the same three songs repeatedly. He stretches his arms over his head, making the bottom of the denim shirt he’s wearing ride up, exposing caramel skin that’s gotten darker from the sun. “But this is going to be the living room. Try to picture it with me, Mullet - an overstuffed sofa, television, maybe even one of those EZ Chairs that recline and come with a cup holder?”

Keith nearly snorts into his water bottle. “What are you, retiring now?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t get aches and pains from all the batshit crazy stunts we pulled!”

“Eh.” Keith shrugs. His body is always in pain, but he doesn’t think a reclining chair will help him at this point. “Anyway, continue with your vision.”

Lance looks skeptical but continues. "Right, as I was saying. Next is the kitchen-"

"Not the bathroom?" Keith crosses his arms with a look of amusement. "I thought you'd be more excited to create your own personal oasis for your three-hour showers."

"We'll get there, stop interrupting!"

Lance takes him by the wrist and leads him into the next room, where they installed the framing for a bay window (after fighting over the size for 20 minutes). 

"Okay, picture this: granite counters, stainless steel appliances, spotless, scrubbed, well-equipped utensils on hooks!" Lance drags Keith to the middle of the room where the kitchen island sits, still covered in plastic waiting to be installed. "The cabinets will have mismatching cups, but it'll be clear which are the favorites. Now there, next to the fridge? Uncluttered, clean folded tea towels in a nook in the corner."

Lance leans back against the island, eyes fluttering closed and whispers, "And you hear that?"

"No?" Keith answers just as soft. Lance is still holding on to his hand, and it's sending butterflies soaring in his gut.

"It'll be a gentle swish from the dishwasher," Lance hums, eyes opening with a smirk. "Because I hate washing dishes."

Keith takes the small step to close the distance between them. "Is that why you always got out of dish duty in the castle?"

Lance's back presses against the island. "Maybe."

Sunlight beams through a newly installed window, creating shadows across space. The light of Lance's Altean markings turns their shadowy hideout faintly blue. They flicker and brighten, and Keith can't help himself. He runs his thumb against one, cupping Lance’s cheek in his hand.

He's about to do something he's probably going to regret when Lance's phone goes off. They jump away from each other, Keith going to grab another water bottle while Lance answers the call. Once answered, he begins speaking in rapid Spanish, indicating it's probably a family member or one of the shopkeepers for the appliances.

By force of habit, Keith reaches into his bag and pulls out his own phone. He sits down with a long exhale.

**_You have (96) new messages_ **

**_You have (207) missed calls_ **

He groans, swiping away the notifications. Two more come up.

**_1 missed call from_ **

**_Shiro_ **

**_23 minutes ago_ **

**_1 new message from_ **

**_Mom_ **

**_2 minutes ago_ **

Keith groans. He hasn't told Shiro he is on Earth, but he's not surprised if it somehow has gotten back to him. One time at the Garrison, Adam had joked that Shiro had microchipped him to keep track of his whereabouts, and the older he gets, the less he thinks Adam was joking.

The message from his mother makes him pause. Krolia was always one to call, never to send texts. The thought of her even sending him an emoji would have him snorting if he didn't have a pit in his stomach.

With a swipe, he opens the message.

**Mom**

Are you alright?

Keith’s guilt falls like an avalanche in his gut. It’s heavy and brutal. 

It took years for him to build up a relationship with Krolia after being separated. Their relationship was warm, and he enjoyed learning more about his mother as well as being Galra. Things about himself he didn’t recognize on Earth, he saw in his mother’s eyes and the habits of his fellow blade members. When New Daibazaal appeared, and he was able to unify their people to return to their home planet, it felt like all his missing pieces were finally falling into place.

He didn’t know how much he would miss Earth until he was faced with the choice of needing to leave it forever.

Still, he never wanted to hurt his mother by leaving in the middle of the night. With a sigh, he replies quickly. Just enough to let her know he is alright, even if he doesn’t know what else to say. So, he says what he can without lying to her.

**Keith**

I’m safe. I love you.

Three dots appear, and her reply is nearly instant. 

**Mom**

I love you too

“Keith?”

Lance’s voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he turns to notice that Lance has walked over and is staring down at him. The way the light of the construction site reflects behind him causes his skin to glow, his hair disheveled from their work, and a light layer of sweat. Keith swallows hard, but Lance doesn’t seem to notice.

“You still with me, buddy?”

“Yeah, just texting my mom,” Keith struggles, shaking his phone from his position on the floor.

“Awww!” Lance teases, dropping to Keith’s side and ruining any mood that might have lingered from before they were interrupted. How could he even think that Lance was hot? He’s an idiot. “Do you miss your new furry space, family?”

“Stop it, Lance.” Keith grunts and Lance merely leans his chin on his shoulder, the touch making Keith feel like he's about to burst into flames. "And not all Galra have fur."

“It’s okay, Keith. I know what it’s like to be homesick.”

“Daibazaal isn’t my home.”

Lance pauses. His jaw is tightening and digging into Keith’s shoulder. Keith wants to see his face but isn’t sure what he would do if he’s that close to Lance. Instead, he glances down at where their hands are resting against the wood floor and sees Lance slowly moving his hand over his own. 

“This can be your home for a little while,” he says, his voice a hot breath in Keith’s ear. “You can have a room with Kosmo and your own bathroom. The house isn’t far from the Garrison teleduv, so you can take your bike to visit Shiro and Pidge. Hunk and Shay come by sometimes, and they can stay over for dinner.”

Fingers intertwining together, Lance squeezes tightly before asking the question.

“Do you want to have a home here, Keith?”

“With you?”

“I mean, I’ll live here too.” He smiles, lines crinkling the crescent marks under his eyes. “But I make decent pancakes, and Kosmo seems to like me.” 

Hearing his name and human food, the wolf’s ears perk up, and Keith can’t help but let out a chuckle. Lance shakes his arm.

“Pleeeasseee, Keith!” he whines obnoxiously. “At least for the summer?”

Keith finally turns to him, their noses touching. He feels the air Lance inhales, and Keith wishes he could read where their relationship is headed, because he wants to kiss Lance, but still isn’t sure if they’re in a kissing relationship. The only thing he knows for sure is that Lance is bisexual and is okay with Keith rutting up against him when he's high and wants to get him off, but also that he wants to be his roommate. 

Are they...in a relationship?

Lance sticks his lips out in an obnoxious pout, and Keith internally shakes his head.

No way.

“Fine,” he relents. “For the summer.”

Lance squeals, hugging Keith tightly until he chokes for air, and sends them tumbling to the floor. The noise is enough to wake Kosmo fully. “Lance!”

“Oh my gosh, Keith,” he gasps, ignoring Keith’s scolding as he climbs up over him, so he’s straddling his hips. Keith thinks of naked women to keep himself from getting hard. “We’re roommates.”

Then it dawns on Keith.

“Oh my god, we’re roommates.”

* 

A week later, Lance's house is ready for what he calls the "fun stuff," which includes painting the walls and setting in some last-minute fixtures like cabinets and window panes.

Usually, this would be work for Luis and Marco, but Luis and his family are on vacation at some theme park that makes Keith's skin crawl just hearing about it, and Marco is traveling abroad for his graduate studies, leaving Lance to reach out to some more local helpful hands.

"Hello, nerds!" Matt Holt greets as he and Pidge stroll through the door, tool belts, and cases of beer in hand. "The engineers are here to make sure your house doesn't fall down."

"Matt, they had a contractor," Shiro laments from behind him before pausing and looking to Lance. "You did have a contractor, right?"

"Sure!" Lance laughs in a way that Keith can tell means he definitely did not. Behind Shiro, Curtis is carrying a box of paint rollers and tarp with N7.

"Where do you want us to drop this?" Curtis asks, looking a little worried from the weight. Keith points to the where the living room will be and then spots Romelle and Veronica sipping beers as they meander in behind them.

"Don't stress yourself out there," he remarks, and Veronica shrugs.

"We're supervising!"

"Supervising what?"

"Well, this Earth beer for starters," Romelle says, shaking the half-empty bottle. "Hunk and Shay are on some couple's trip to the Nex Nebula, and now I can report back that this particular brand of beer is subpar."

Keith rolls his eyes, grabs a paint can, and joins Pidge and Matt, where they are starting to work on the living room. Lance has given them all directions on which colors go where, and as excited as he is to have an afternoon with his friends, he's also a little relieved not to be forced into such close proximity with his crush, again.

Unfortunately, another McClain has a different plan.

Keith busies himself by chatting with Romelle on the porch as he waits for the front door to dry. For some reason, Lance is dead set on making it blue even though it sticks out. He's mid-swig of his sub-par Earth beer when Veronica hops up onto the railing next to him.

"Are you sleeping with my brother?"

The beer burns as it escapes from his nose. He chokes, gasping for air as he wipes his face. "W-what?"

"If you weren't such a spaz, I would've taken that reaction as confirmation," she huffs, swinging her legs. "I saw you guys sharing a bed. Gimme the dirt!"

Grabbing the handle of his paint roller, he turns away from her and fakes interest in the roller. "There's no dirt. Sometimes we get night terrors, and it just works for us, okay?"

"That's it? Platonic cuddling?"

"That's it," he lies, taking a beer from the cooler, and reaching into his pocket for the opener he keeps on his keys. The top peels off with a crack. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Boring! I'm going back in," Romelle groans, swinging the door open to head inside.

"Wait! It's not dry-"

Romelle pauses, seeing how the paint sticks to her hand and groans again, louder. "Ugh! Now I need to clean this up too!"

"Yeah, and I gotta repaint it," Keith mumbles as she leaves, and presses the brush aggressively against the door. 

Veronica leans over the railing to reach for one of Keith's beer bottles. When her head comes close to hitting the patio, he nearly reaches out for her. She flips back up, expertly, and extends the bottle out for him to open. He obliges. 

"You know I'm not one for dirt, Veronica."

She takes the bottle from him. "It's fine, I guess. Just thought when he told me he was bi that it came from a gay awakening you gave him."

Asides from recent developments, the idea of Keith giving Lance anything aside from a headache seems ludicrous. He goes back to painting, but Veronica doesn't take the hint and continues to press her luck.

"Acxa and I have been texting," she says, trying to hide the affection in her voice. Keith picks up on it like a radar. It's the same thing Lance would do when he would talk about Allura before he literally shot himself halfway across the galaxy to avoid hearing about it. "She hasn't heard from you. Wanted to make sure you're alive."

"I'm still alive, last I checked."

"Keith, are you running away from something?" Veronica finally asks, jumping off the railing. "I thought that if you and my brother were having some paperback farmhand romance, then you going off the grid would make sense, but…"

She trails off when Keith doesn't react. He just keeps gliding the paint roller up and down the door. He doesn't even know how many coats of blue paint he’s blindly slathered on this door, but the motion keeps his body busy and from thinking or feeling anything.

He needs to keep moving.

"Keith." Veronica grabs his arm, and he almost throws her off him. But that would send her soaring over the railing, and Keith knows if Lance didn't kill him for it, Acxa would teleduv within a dobosh to rip his head off and bring it back to his mother and Kolivan on a stake. So he freezes, her grip tight around his elbow. He doesn't turn to her, but that doesn't stop her. "Listen, we're all here for you if you want to talk, but we can't help if we don't know what is going on with you."

"Nothing is going on, Veronica," he says between gritted teeth. "Just drop it."

"No."

"What do you want me to say?"

"The truth!"

"I told you the truth! There's nothing between Lance and me-"

"I mean with you, you dingus!" Veronica tugs on his arm to turn him toward her. "Are you in trouble? Did something happen?"

Feeling his temper flare, he yanks her towards him with all his strength, nearly sending them both tumbling back into the door. Luckily he balances them with his back foot planted firmly on the porch.

"I don’t belong on Daibazaal," Keith hisses, eyes sharp and boring into hers. He's so close to her he can feel her fear like it's just hitting her that maybe pissing off a guy who is half-Galra with a known mean-streak probably isn't the smartest move. "And I can't tell Krolia."

"So, you ran away?"

"Yeah," he shrugs, letting go of her and wrapping his arms around himself. "Pretty much."

"Then why don't you tell them you don't like it there? Take Lance up on his offer to be his roommate full-time, and you guys can grow corn, plant those alien flowers together, and pretend you aren't mooning over each other. Stop lying to yourself - and to Krolia!"

"It's not that simple."

"Whenever people say that it usually is _that_ simple," she says, grabbing her beer from where it sits on the railing and taking a swig. "You're just too chickenshit to do anything."

Keith sighs. He knows Veronica is right, even though he doesn't want to give her the satisfaction. "Please promise not to tell Acxa where I am. I know you two share everything."

This makes her blush. "I don't tell her _everything_."

"And Lance can't know either."

"Why not? He's thrilled you’re here." She rolls her eyes, taking another long drink. "Won't shut up about it, really."

The thought of Lance talking about Keith when he isn't around piqued his interest, but he pushes the temptation to ask about it aside. "I don't want him to think I'm here as some consolation prize and not because I really want to be here with him. He's just getting over losing Allura, and I don't need him worrying about me too."

Veronica stares at him over her glasses, giving him a slow once-over while she drains the final drops of her beer. She pulls the bottle from her mouth with a long exhale and an unladylike burp. Lazily, she tosses it into one of the recycling bins Lance dragged outside to make room in the kitchen for Matt and Shiro to install the cabinets. 

He watches her step off the porch to make the long walk around to the back where the door isn't drying.

"If you think Lance doesn't worry about you," she calls over her shoulder. "Then you're an even bigger dingus than I thought."

And even though she didn't promise, Keith knows he can trust her.

*

Later that night, when everyone else has gone home, they lay in the middle of the empty living room surrounded by the leftover beer. Keith had opened every window so the smell of paint could waft out and be replaced by the fresh night air blowing through.

"We should put these away," Keith motions to the beer cooler, making no effort to move from where he's sprawled on the wood floor. He's two beers past tipsy, and Lance's head is resting on his thigh. 

Long brown fingers hold a glass bottle to wet lips as Lance drains it empty, pulling it away with a long satisfied, "Ahhh!"

Keith's beer swaddled mind goes right back to that night in Lance's bedroom, where that warm mouth was doing actions far less innocent. He wills the thought away. Instead, Keith taps Lance lightly on the head to get his attention. "Hey."

Lance blinks before smiling. "Hi."

"Did you hear me? We gotta clean up."

The smile leaves, and Lance flips like a pancake, flopping on top of both of Keith's legs, effectively pinning him down. He reaches for another beer, picking up two bottles in his hands. "No."

"Seriously?" Keith groans, refusing to whine. "You lush."

"We're celebrating." Lance reaches across to Keith's keys sitting beside them and cracks the caps on both beers. He hands Keith a bottle and knocks his bottle against it in cheers. "Last round."

"You said that last time."

"Don't worry; I'm not driving home." Lance winks, and Keith is too drunk to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

" _Lush_."

Lance takes a swig and pushes himself up to sit back on his rear, nestled between Keith's legs. He pats one of Keith’s thighs, and Keith has to bite the lip of his bottle to keep from groaning. "Let's play a game."

"You hate games."

"No, I just hate games that get me killed. C'mon, it’ll be fun."

"...what game?"

"Never Have I Ever?"

"Ugh! Pass!"

"Keith! Don't be a stick in the mud," Lance whines and crosses his legs, and Keith feels the need to mirror him. They are getting way too cozy for his liking. "How else are we gonna know if we're compatible roommates?"

"We literally formed the wings of a giant robot together."

"Yeah, but Voltron never had us pay rent." Lance points at him with the nozzle of his beer. "I'll go first."

"What a gentleman," Keith grumbles, but Lance isn't budging, so he gives in. Like he always does. "Fine. But only one round and then I'm going back to your parents to sleep. There's no furniture here - and you gotta clean up alone!"

"Deal!" 

Lance's eyes are positively sparkling, and it cannot be healthy for Keith's blood pressure. His heart is totally going to beat right out of his chest, splattering on the floor between them. "Okay never have I ever thrown up in class."

Keith frowns, and Lance laughs.

"Ha! Drink up, Pukey!" 

"I was in first grade, and I got a stomach bug!" Keith grumbles, taking a sip. "It wasn't my fault!"

"Doesn't matter, still puked. Okay, it's still my turn." Lance rubs his chin, looking at his beer bottle. "Never have I ever tried to cut my own hair."

Keith doesn't drink, and Lance scowls. "What?"

"Really, Mullet? You're trying to tell me that you never cut your own hair?"

"Nope," Keith replies, resting his head in his hand, elbow balancing against his knee. "My dad used to cut it, and then some of my foster parents. After that, Shiro would cut it, and then I just stopped once I was in the desert."

"And on the space whale?"

"My mom."

"Damn, that many people cut your hair, and did that to you? I'm sorry, dude. That sucks."

"Shut up," he scoffs, knowing it's his turn. Keith hums in thought before turning to his new roommate. "Do the questions need to be safe?"

The second he asks, Keith regrets it as Lance leans back on his hands with a low whistle. "Oooh! Are we gonna get dirty?"

Keith feels the blush creep high on his cheeks. "I was just trying to figure out guardrails here."

Sure, he's curious about some things with Lance, especially given the new information that he is learning more about his bisexuality, but the idea of suggesting anything dirty feels like he's imposing. Which, again, is weird, because Lance did get him off a week ago, even though with every day that passes, it’s starting to feel more like a dream and less like it actually happened.

Lance, on the other hand, is building up with a similar swagger Keith recognizes from their Voltron days. It's not as pretentious, probably due to the passing of time and a mix of maturity and maybe even a little bit of grief from losing Allura. His spark is still there, but instead of being a blistering fire, it's a warm ember. Sitting under coals, but with the right poking and fuel, it can be dangerous. 

But Keith loves danger.

"No guardrails, my man," Lance says, motioning to himself. "Considering how red you just went, I have a feeling it'll be a while until it's my turn."

"Screw off," Keith spits, but there's no venom in it. It's entirely toothless, like all of his threats to Lance. Throwing barbs just feels like how they communicate after all these years. And there’s no bigger barb than loverboy Lance’s love life. "Never have I ever kissed a girl."

Lance's entire head rolls along with his eyes. "Oh fuck you, Kogane." 

"Sounds like someone has to drink."

"You really never made out with a chick?"

"Nope," he answers, popping the P for emphasis. "I'm gay."

"Your whole life? You just hatched from whatever egg Krolia laid in the desert and walked out like, 'No boobs for me!' from the jump?"

"Galra don't lay eggs, Lance."

"How did you know?" Lance asks, voice softer now, and Keith knows he's not talking about Galra reproductive systems. He's talking about something else, something more profound. 

He is talking about how Keith knew he was gay.

Keith catches the glint in his eyes, the sincerity that is always there. Just beneath the surface. 

"I just did," he replies, because it's the truth. "I knew who I was, even if I didn't have a name for it. Then I met Shiro, and he introduced me to his boyfriend, and I got a name for it. But it was always there."

"You're always so sure."

"Not always," Keith replies softly. His eyes land on Lance's lips and move to the mouth of his beer bottle. 

"You still gotta drink."

"Yeah...guess I do." Lance looks down and smiles softly. He brings the bottle to his lips and takes a swig. "Dirty cheater."

"You're the one who wanted to play," Keith says, feeling the corner of his mouth lift. He decides to make it easy for Lance, even though some sober part of his brain is screaming at him not to, he doesn't listen. He was always bad at listening. "Okay, never have I ever slept with Allura."

Lance freezes.

It hits Keith like a bat to the back of the head, and instantly he's reaching out. "Shit, Lance, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that... I'm a fucking idiot."

But Lance just shakes his head. Keith doesn't know what that means, and his brain is too waterlogged with beer to piece it together. Did he upset him? Should he leave?

He should leave. That always seems like the best thing to do when he's messed up royally. 

He makes a motion to stand, and Lance's hand reaches out, gripping tightly around Keith's wrist. Tan fingers contrasting against pale skin in the moonlight. The gasp that's ripped from Keith's chest comes straight from the heart, because when he looks at Lance, all he sees are piercing blue eyes, the marks on his cheeks somehow making them stand out even more. 

He's beautiful.

Did Allura know just how beautiful he is?

It's dark, because they haven't put in the light fixtures. They're doing that tomorrow. Right now their only source of light is a mixture of cheap dollar store flashlights and candles that have already burnt down to the wicks. 

It's as if they're having a séance, and Keith wants so badly to bring Allura back for this moment. To ask her how she could have left Lance behind, to have held his heart in her hands, broken it with a thousand tiny hacks, and then given half of it back to him as she left. 

It's selfish, he knows it is, but he wishes he could understand how, because Lance McClain has been pulling him into his orbit for years, and Keith can't break away even if he wanted to.

"Lance," his voice breaks, and maybe it's the booze that's making him more emotional than he has any right being. "I didn't mean it."

"You did," Lance whispers, the sound breaking through the emptiness of the house. "You don't say things you don't mean." 

And he's right, he doesn't.

He sits back down, Lance's hand still heavy on his wrist. The air feels tense between them, just like the night when Lance-

Keith forces his eyes closed. Nope. Not doing that. 

He feels dizzy and untethered, like a balloon that's about to float away if Lance lets go. It's been a long day, and the exhaustion is seeping into his muscles, making him bone tired. 

This is the worst situation to talk about this topic, and yet probably the only way Keith would have ever had the courage to do so.

"If you're curious," Lance finally says, adjusting his grip, so he's holding Keith's hand instead of his wrist, fingers sliding together like mismatched pairs. "And taking from the question, you are-"

Keith can't help but wince, and Lance's eyes sparkle with emotion in the flickering light. It looks a lot like mischief.

"We didn't sleep together," he says finally, a weary air about him as he shrugs. "It wasn't that kind of relationship."

Keith can't help himself. "So, what kind was it?"

The question must take him off guard, because Lance's gaze rests over Keith's shoulder like he's mentally taken a time machine back two years to find the answer. 

"It was supportive, I guess." Lance finally lands as he remembers. "She felt so much bigger than anything I could ever imagine. I saw Allura heal an entire planet, she saved my life and was able to pull Shiro's - I don't even know what to call it, his essence maybe? - out of the Black Lion.

"She was amazing," Keith says, and he means it. 

Even heartsick with jealousy, Keith loved Allura, too. She was fiercely driven and one of the most headstrong people he's ever met, and it's probably why they butted heads so much. They were both protective and passionate about their views, and it was hard to meet in the middle. But he wasn't at all surprised that Lance fell in love with her. She was better than all of them and forced them all to be better, too. 

But in those final days on the ATLAS, when Keith was trying to keep the team together and smother the monster in his chest every time he saw them together, he never saw that same passion with Lance. Allura was tired and stretched too thin.

She was sad.

"I tried to be what I thought she needed, a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold...anything to help keep her going, but it was hard to love someone you couldn't really understand," Lance continues. "Lotor just got it, y'know? Looking back, I think that's what she saw in him. He got the Altean thing and the Galra thing. He knew how heavy it was to wear the crown."

"Another thing she lost," Keith added, motioning with his beer. "When she made Shiro's arm."

Lance shakes his head. "I was just trying to keep up with her, man. And then she was gone."

"I miss her," Keith says, and he's more angry than sad these days. "She should've been here today drinking shitty Earth beer with Romelle and silently judging how we had no idea how to install cabinets."

"And then call Coran to explain it to us, just like we ended up having to do anyway." Lance chuckles, and Keith's stomach drops.

"She would've been who you'd be moving in here with," Keith admits, voice soft and scared. 

And Lance looks at him, always so much braver than Keith can be when it comes to matters of the heart. His mouth ticking up slightly, bringing his beer to his lips as he takes a sip that's long overdue from his answer.

"You sure about that?"

"What?!" Keith is gobsmacked because if there's been one thing he's been sure of these past few years, it's that if she were still alive, Allura and Lance would be endgame. Lance laughs at his face.

"I mean, I dunno! I've had some time to think about it, and I'm not sure we would've lasted."

"Why?"

"Our relationship was like when you have a campfire, and the embers are just about to go out - it's warm enough, but it's not going to last forever," he squeezes Keith's hand. "I think I'm someone who needs something more passionate and-"

Keith doesn’t know what hits him. It’s most probably definitely the alcohol, but he leans forward and grabs Lance by the back of the neck and looks at him with everything he has left to give. 

The next thing Keith knows, he slams his lips to Lance’s, nearly knocking the wind out of his own lungs.

Lance hardly has a moment to react before Keith presses his tongue to the seam of his lips and, at his grant of access, delves inside his mouth. 

It's a sloppy kiss with the strong scent of beer exchanging in the intermingling of their billowing breaths. Lance's arms reach up and tangle around Keith's neck, fingers twisting in his hair and pulling it free of the elastic. 

His kiss, steeped in a craving that ignites like tinder in a forest fire, is a promise of real passion. With it, he reminds Lance that he's alive, that they're both alive, and they're here now. They're together, and even if Lance is a lot, Keith is capable of loving him more than he's ever thought possible. It's like a chasm within him that has no bottom; it can hold magnitudes. Lance can burn as bright as he needs to, and Keith will be there because he loves all of him. 

He will always love Lance McClain.

When Lance falls over the edge, his chest heaves as he grips both Keith's hand and his hair as if to anchor himself to keep from floating off into space.

“Ah!” Lance chokes, struggling to catch his breath. His thighs are trembling as Keith guides him through the feeling. He gasps Keith's name over and over.

Keith's name. Not Allura's.

He barely has time to wipe his mouth on the back of his hand before Lance tugs at his shoulders, pulling his lips hungrily against his own and moaning when he tastes himself on Keith's tongue.

When he pulls away, Lance presses their foreheads together, still breathless.

"Yeah, I'm definitely a little bit gay."

Keith kisses him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Spent Valentine's Day weekend in Las Vegas and am still recovering. Next update will be on schedule!


	4. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It was hard for me to admit that to myself because Adam was my friend, too. But me loving Tak doesn't mean that he didn't also love Adam when they were together, or that he loves me any less. Love isn't a capped resource."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday! I have a terrible cough and every time it flares up I want to die - so I hope you're all having a better week than I am!

Lance is right, the furniture does take up space.

It's also heavy as shit.

"Hmmm." Lance tilts his head to the side, hand resting on his chin as he inspects the room where Keith is carrying the world's heaviest bookshelf. "A little bit to the left."

Keith adjusts it with a huff. Lance sighs and Keith groans, feeling his muscles fatigue.

"What now?"

"It's nothing."

"Lance," Keith grits out in a tone promising pain if he doesn't answer. Lance sighs again, resting a hand on his hip.

"It's just...hard to picture it piecemeal like this, y'know?" He waves to the room that's still half empty. "Maybe we should put it back where it was before?"

By _we,_ he means Keith, because that's who's been unloading all the furniture from the truck. Now that the fixtures were done, they were finally ready to take out the few bits of extra furniture Lance had been keeping in storage. It isn't a lot, but it's heavy.

Lance turns to the cosmic wolf that's taken a seat next to him in the living room. "What do you think? Should Dad move the shelf back?"

Kosmo, at his side, barks in agreement.

"Don't call me that!" Keith hisses, preparing to move the bookshelf back.

"What? Dad?" Lance seems genuinely confused. "Why? You're his dog dad."

"No, I'm his owner." Keith puffs his bangs up to keep them from sticking to his face. His hair is getting long enough to pull back. 

"Then what does that make me?" Lance demands as Kosmo nuzzles his hand, demanding pets. "Before I was dog uncle."

Keith ignores him, turning back to the doorway to double-check the bed of the pickup. "Is that it? I'm beat."

"Me too." Lance stretches, slinging an arm over Keith's sore shoulder. 

"You didn't do anything!"

"Rude! I supervised and directed!" Lance squawks, indignantly. "I also drove from the storage facility!"

"While I hung in the back to make sure the shit didn't fly out of the truck!"

"You did do that," Lance agrees, pecking a kiss to Keith’s scarred cheek and taking his hand. They don't kiss on the lips outside of sex. Keith tries not to linger on that detail. He doesn’t allow himself to get his hopes up, to believe that they could be making tangible progress towards something serious. "Because we make the best team."

Keith pouts, letting Lance drag him through the house and up the stairs. "Where are you taking me?"

"Upstairs. Your hard work has paid off, my beefy friend. You get the first hot bath in the oversized clawfoot tub!"

"Lemme guess, you'll be joining?"

"I mean, it would save water," Lance preens over his shoulder. "I've also been told I give good shoulder massages."

Keith hums in delight, letting Lance lead him to the master bathroom.

That night they go to bed on an air mattress on the floor, a tangled mess of warm, clean skin and limbs. Keith is drifting off as Lance runs his fingers through his damp hair.

"I should buy a bed."

"Hmmm," Keith agrees, eyes closed as he tries not to move too much.

"Do you think one bed is enough?" Lance asks quietly, fingers working out small knots and wet tangles. 

Keith nods into his chest. "Yeah, let's do one bed."

He feels a smile bloom against his temple.

*

"When you told me we were going to the bed store, I didn't think you meant literally." 

Keith shuts the passenger door of Lance's truck and looks up through the sunglasses he's borrowed. The sign of the store in front of them reads _The Bed Store_.

"Makes it easy to remember," Lance shrugs, locking the truck and making his way inside. They cross through the automatic doors and are greeted with a gust of cool air conditioning. "Ahh...that reminds me, the central air folks are gonna stop by later today with the kitchen people. You think we can divide and conquer that?"

Keith nods. "Sure."

"Thanks! They never tell you how much work putting together a house is," Lance complains pushing his sunglasses up on top of his head and grabbing a floor plan off one of the endcaps. "As a kid, I just thought these things appeared like my parents somehow willed them into existence."

"The only house I had growing up was the one I shared with my Pops," Keith confesses as they pass the bedding section. He runs his hands across the cool linen sheets set out on display. "There was a fire that took the whole thing down. He managed to get me out, but the smoke did him in and he died a few hours later at the Garrison Hospital."

"I didn't know that," Lance replies, quietly. "I remember you saying he was a firefighter and passed away. Does that mean your conspiracy shack where we took Shiro-"

"Used to be my Pops garage," he finishes as they go up the stairs where the bed frames are showcased. "After he died, I got bounced around a lot in the foster care system and didn't really have a house I cared about."

"Not even on Daibazaal?”

Keith snorts. “Especially not on Daibazaal.”

“Based on what you told us during Allura Day, it sounds like those space furries are really into you,” Lance says, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning to check out some of the king-sized frames. “I’m surprised after asking you to be their Emperor they didn’t build you a whole castle to try and keep you around.”

It’s a lucky guess, and Keith knows there’s no way Lance could possibly know the truth, but it’s getting dangerously close. He decides to change the subject, stopping at one of the beds in front of them.

“This looks fine,” he says suddenly, catching Lance’s attention. The bed is a dark blue crushed velvet sleigh frame. Lance looks skeptical as Keith sits on the mattress, the softness dipping from his weight. He blinks in surprise. “Oh wow, this is actually really comfortable!”

“Is it?” Lance inspects the price tag when a sales associate manifests behind him. 

“Hello, sir! Did you know we’re selling this bed in a range of different colors?”

Lance shrieks, jumping onto the mattress next to Keith in surprise. When it’s clear to them it’s just a simple salesperson, Lance clears his throat. “O-oh, really?”

“Yes,” Mattress Salesman grins with a mouth that seems to have a lot of teeth, all of which are really white. Keith can smell his cologne from where he’s sitting, and his slicked-back red hair is giving him a vibe like some sort of predator. “Our fancy sleigh crushed velvet bed frame is the lowest competitive price, hands down!”

Keith peers over Lance to take a look at the price tag, and instantly finds that statement difficult to believe. Lance stands, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I dunno, this seems like a lot for a bed,” he says, looking over his shoulder. “Are there any other frames that are a bit more affordable?”

Mattress Salesman’s face falls, his eyes scanning Lance’s form until it lands on his left hand. A grin slithers across his face like a snake. “Sure, but you won’t be impressing any female _visitors_ with any of those models.”

Lance’s shoulders stiffen as Mattress Salesman slings an arm around him, voice low. “You didn’t hear this from me, but ladies really love the sleigh beds—something about the velvet plush really does it for them.” He notices Keith listening and thumbs at him. “I bet your buddy knows what I’m talking about, right?”

Keith cocks a brow. “How much you willing to bet, _buddy_?”

Lance shoots him a glare, but the sarcasm is lost on the associate.

“Haha! What a funny guy!” Mattress Salesman laughs lamely, turning back to Lance.

“You sure are lucky to have a friend like him, right? I swear, I see so many stags wandering in here having no idea what they want, but you’re a smart man. You know to bring a _friend_.”

“Yeah...a friend,” Lance says, glancing at Keith. 

The word hits him with the weight of a bag of bricks swung into his gut. Keith bites the inside of his cheek while the Mattress Salesman continues to go on and on about thread count, making some more rude remarks about women.

An hour later, Lance is the proud owner of a natural pine frame with a matching head and footboard. He gets a king-size mattress with new bedding as part of a sale. 

The sleazy salesman didn’t get his way with the sleigh bed, and they managed to sneak off to find a charming young woman that Keith is relieved would get the commission bonus instead.

"You and your boyfriend are cute," she tells Keith as she punches up the price for their order while Lance is off inspecting some pillowcases. "My girlfriend and I just moved in together, too."

She smiles brightly as the flush burns on Keith's cheeks. The register dings and she pulls out the receipt. "Congrats!"

Keith nods, taking the receipt and walking off to find Lance by the lobby.

“Accordingly to the description,” Lance reads from the receipt as they head back to the car. “The timeless wooden frame is finished with bun feet and has a center support rail for extra strength. Neat!”

“As long as they deliver it today and make that as _timeless_ , I don’t care what kind of feet it has.”

Lance smiles, climbing into the truck and turning over the engine as Keith dumps the bag of bedding in the back seat. “Hey...about the creepy sales guy-”

“You mean our _buddy_ ,” Keith groans, turning to look out the window as they drive out of the parking lot. “He sucked.”

“Yeah, he did,” Lance chuckles, eyes still on the road. “It’s just...”

“What?”

“When he called us friends...was that okay?”

Keith continues to stare out the window, hoping his expression isn’t too readable. It wouldn’t be the first time he was confused for straight, and it wouldn’t be the last. But the issue Lance is talking about has nothing to do with some dimwitted bed seller in a discount furniture store. 

From the corner of his eye, he spots Lance’s grip as it tightens around the steering wheel. Keith’s heart stutters, realizing that maybe he isn’t so alone with his confused and mixed feelings. He leans against the window, chin resting in his palm as he stares out at the traffic moving beside them.

“Did _you_ think it was okay?”

“I asked you first!”

“Then you know it wasn’t okay, cool we both agree,” Keith says, still not looking at Lance. He can’t help but to twist the knife a little more. “Great job correcting him, though. Happy to know we’re such good _friends.”_

“Keith, don’t be like that. I didn’t know what his deal was - he was obviously a sexist prick, he could’ve been a homophobe.”

“Oh no, not a homophobe!” Keith feigns shock, turning to Lance with his hand on his chest. “Whatever would he have done? Thrown us out of the Bed Store? We would’ve had to go to another bed store! Oh, woe is us!”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Is it not obvious? I’ll try harder.” 

“Look, I don’t need a lecture right now,” Lance argues loudly as if Keith isn’t sitting arms-length across from him. 

Keith inhales deeply through his nose, noting the challenge in Lance’s tone, and for once not rising to the occasion. “I’m not trying to lecture you, Lance. I’m just trying to figure out what we are,” Keith replies gently, turning to look over at Lance as he stops at a traffic light. “Are we just...friends who screw around?”

Lance doesn’t answer, eyes still on the road in front of him. His jaw clenches, his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel. The light changes to green and the truck jerks back to life.

The silence that washes over them is heavy and paralyzing. Keith closes his eyes, willing the rest of the lights to turn green so the truck can keep moving, and they can get back to the farm. Then he can find Kosmo, walk to his ship and pretend none of this ever happened.

He'll run away, and he'll keep running until it's just him and Kosmo alone on a planet somewhere. He won't need anything from anyone, especially Lance McClain. He'd never be the princess Lance really wanted, and could never be good enough to be more than a warm body. With Allura, there wouldn't be any misconception about who they were to one another. No questions asked that she and Lance belonged together. And it hurt to think maybe Lance was having those very same thoughts at the moment.

"Keith," Lance sighs as he signals to change lanes. There's suddenly a bright blue light in the backseat, and Lance swerves the car over to the side of the road, sending Keith slamming into the door. When the car stops, both men catch their breath and turn around to find Kosmo, tongue lolling and tail wagging, in the backseat of the truck.

"Well, that's my ride." Keith unbuckles his belt and leans over the divider.

"What are you talking about?" Lance demands, shifting his body so he's facing Keith's butt as he climbs over the seat. "Keith stop! Let's talk about this-"

"You made yourself _very_ clear, Lance," Keith shouts over his shoulder, boots kicking over the seat with a _thud_. "We are friends who fuck. Got it."

"That's not what I meant!"

Keith sighs, too emotionally drained to continue arguing. He wraps his arms around Kosmo's neck, burrowing his face in his mane.

"Look, I just...need some space, okay?" he says around blue fur. 

With that, Kosmo teleports him out of the car.

*

Keith lands on the front lawn of a single-family home. Glancing around the empty streets, it doesn't take him long to recognize it as one of the small neighborhoods outside of the Galaxy Garrison. It's been mostly occupied by crew members and officials since Earth's rehabilitation after the Galra invasion.

"Keith?"

On reflex, Keith's muscles tense when he hears his name. He spins around, hand hovering over his belt where his blade sits. Beside him, Kosmo isn't nearly as spooked. The space wolf yawns, tongue curling out of his mouth as he stretches.

The figure that greets him is Curtis, standing on the front porch of the house. He appears confused, but not surprised that Keith would literally drop in on their front lawn unannounced. 

“Uh, hey Curtis,” Keith says. “Is Shiro home?”

It doesn’t take long for Keith to be seated at the kitchen table across from Shiro, chin resting in his Altean hand. To the untrained eye, it would look like he is thoughtfully listening with a neutral expression. But Keith knows better—this is Shiro’s judgey face.

“So let me get this straight,” he says slowly. “You escaped from a moving vehicle with Kosmo because you and Lance had an argument over...a mattress.”

“And a bed, Tak,” Curtis adds, taking a seat at the head of the table with a pitcher of sweet tea. “A bed with a wooden frame and bun feet.” 

Keith grabs a glass, pouring himself some tea. “It wasn’t about the damn bed.”

“No, duh! If you two were this bent out of shape over a bed, you’d have an actual problem,” Curtis leans back in his seat, looking skeptical.

“Don’t underestimate them,” Shiro warns, taking a glass from his fiancé. “Once they argued for two quintants on who won when they were paired in a three-legged race together.”

“That’s your fault for coming up with that stupid team-building exercise,” Keith disputes before Curtis can even ask. Under his breath, he grumbles, "And I won."

If Shiro hears him, he's ignoring it. Instead, he raises an eyebrow. “Still, I don’t get why you’re this angry about Lance’s bed.”

A drop of condensation rolls down the side of his glass, stopping when it hits the edge of his glove. Keith wills his face to stay neutral, not wanting to seem as upset as he’s already coming across as. The last thing he needs is for Shiro to go snooping into their situation.

Not that Shiro would do it purposely, but sometimes when he gets excited about something (say, telling Keith since he was a disgruntled paladin that Lance and he would probably get along _really well_ if he just gave the loudmouthed boy a chance), Shiro couldn’t help but overshare.

Eventually, Shiro pushes back from the table, the legs of his chair scrape against the floor. “If you want to stay here, you know you're always welcomed. It's summer vacation, so we're both still off."

"Speak for yourself, _Admiral_ ," Curtis teases, and Shiro winces. Keith sits ramrod straight like someone put a steel post in his back.

"Wait, did they finally ask you to become Admiral of the Garrison?" Keith demands, and Shiro's discomfort is proof enough. "Shiro!"

"It's not a big deal," Shiro explains, and Curtis _scoffs_ from behind his tea. "Curtis!"

"Tak, I don't know why you're acting like you haven't just been offered your dream job of heading the Galaxy Alliance." Curtis sighs, shaking his head. "You're too modest."

"I'm not modest, I'm _retired._ "

" _Semi_ -retired, love," Curtis corrects, wagging his finger in the air. "Those flight courses don't teach themselves."

Shiro grumbles, but a thought occurs to him. He turns to Keith. "That reminds me, I had something for you. Don't move."

Before Keith can even ask what, Shiro has bolted out the side door. The crash of the screen door startles Kosmo, and the wolf perks up from where he was napping in the kitchen.

"Aw, poor baby! Did that big dummy scare you?" Curtis coos, making kissy noises until Kosmo stops whining and slowly pads to him for comfort. Knowing better than to somehow spoil the creature, even _more_ , Keith can tell the dramatic display his wolf is creating is for attention and more pets.

They’ve been dating for years, but Keith still doesn’t know how to behave around Curtis without Shiro present. It’s not that it’s awkward—Keith likes Curtis. He’s steady and outspoken where Shiro can be reserved and keep personal things close to the chest. Not that Keith can judge.

Still, when Pidge had first texted him that Shiro was dating someone, Keith was happy, but a bit surprised. Shiro is wonderful, and Keith would endure the Galra War all over again to ensure his best friend got to live the life he deserved—celebrated by the Garrison and adored by his crew. He just didn't foresee it being lived with Curtis.

The man in question pours more tea into his glass. Keith watches quietly as cool condensation rolls off the side of his own glass in the summer heat. 

"It's not easy," Curtis finally says, setting down the pitcher. Kosmo rests his head in his lap, and Curtis runs his hands through soft blue fur. "Loving someone."

Keith blinks, trying and failing to hide his shock. Is he being that obvious? He doesn't have to ask, Curtis is already chuckling.

"I knew Adam," Curtis explains, taking a sip of his tea and turning toward the window where Shiro is outside. "We were all in the same class together at the Garrison. I wasn't a pilot, though. I was on the Comms track with McClain—Veronica," he clarifies.

"I knew who you meant."

"Right." Curtis clears his throat and continues. "Everyone knew about Adam and Tak...Shiro," he tries again and Keith waves him off. "Alright, you get it."

"No, keep going," Keith urges, trying not to sound too pushy. "Shiro never gave me all the details of how you met before the ATLAS."

"We graduated from the Garrison together," he explains. "After Kerberos was announced, word got out that Adam and Tak broke up. Adam never talked about it, and then the whole crew went missing due to pilot error—which we all knew was a lie. Tak could fly through anything."

"They tried to blame it on Shiro's illness." Keith looks down at his glass. "When Iverson said that, I lost my temper and punched him in the face."

Curtis's eyebrows raise. "That's what got you kicked out?"

"Not exactly my proudest moment."

"Should be, Iverson was a dick before the invasion." Curtis's eyes darken at the memory. "I was on ground control during Adam's last mission. He was the best fighter pilot we had left."

Kosmo whines softly and nuzzles his nose into Curtis's hand, sensing the sadness. Keith pats his wolf on the back.

"From what James told me, those days were brutal. I'm sorry we couldn't get home faster."

Curtis shrugs, but Keith can tell the flippancy isn't sincere. "After we came home that last time, Tak started to show interest in me. But I thought I was just getting my hopes up. Then he didn't think I was interested, and it was this whole back and forth thing for a month."

Keith chuckles. "I'm sure the crew loved it."

"Colleen Holt was ready to murder us if we didn't just get over ourselves and go on a date." He shakes his head fondly at the memory. "When we finally did, it felt right. It was hard for me to admit that to myself because Adam was my friend, too. But me loving Tak doesn't mean that he didn't also love Adam when they were together, or that he loves me any less. Love isn't a capped resource."

Keith gasps at the sentiment, a blush rising on his cheek. He's never allowed himself to even think that what Lance could feel for him would ever be close enough for love.

"I _know_ what it’s like to love someone who's lost someone," Curtis says, staring at Keith with steady, steely eyes. "It can feel next to impossible, but it's not. You aren't chasing a ghost, Keith. Lance can love you back, and he may already. Let this take the time it needs."

The words are said softly, but they immediately ring in Keith’s mind like a shout.

A long stretch of silence follows where Curtis stares at him, no doubt trying to analyze him for more information. Keith stays put, refusing to meet his gaze. He’s too busy drowning in the emotions he’s been so desperate to ward away before they could truly make a home in his heart. He’d been working so damn hard to reject the idea that he had a chance with Lance, and now, Curtis is acting like his feelings were common knowledge. Has he been _that_ obvious?

When Shiro bursts back through the door, Kosmo looks ready to pounce on the man for spooking him again.

"Tak! You're stressing out the dog!"

"Cosmic space wolf," Keith corrects lamely. Kosmo curls behind his legs for comfort, growling at the screen door—his new sworn nemesis.

"Sorry, I'm excited!" Shiro waves them out front, and everyone leaves the table. Although, Keith and Shiro have to jointly drag Kosmo away from ripping his screen door to shreds. 

When they make their way to the front of the house, Keith sees Shiro's old hoverbike. Only now it's definitely been refurbished, painted red with a black stripe up the sides.

"I've been trying to figure out how to bring it to Daibazaal, but if you're staying with Lance you can use it now," Shiro explains, hands on his hips. He's proud of himself and the work he's done to restore the hoverbike. Keith can tell it's an effort of love. "Do you like-"

Shiro huffs when Keith tackles him in a hug. The impact causes them to stumbles back, both nearly falling over. Curtis laughs and Kosmo barks.

"Thank you, Shiro," he murmurs into his shirt. His brother lets out a chuckle, ruffling Keith's hair.

"You never have to thank me for anything, Keith," he says, pointing to Curtis. "But Curtis may thank you for finally taking this thing out of our garage."

"To think, we'll actually have room to put our _car_ in the garage," Curtis exhales, resting his hands on his chest lovingly. "It’s life-changing."

Shiro nudges Curtis with his hip as Keith climbs onto the back of the hoverbike. Curtis pulls an old helmet from the garage, which Keith fights him not to take.

“Safety first!”

“I’ve literally flown for as long as I could walk, Curtis!”

"Brain injuries don't discriminate!"

They settle on goggles as an uneasy compromise. The familiar scent of fuel and oil rises up into his nose, hugging his senses. It’s not the aromatherapy candles Lance liters around the house, but it’s close. 

At the thought of Lance, Keith’s smile wavers. He fidgets nervously as he straddles the bike. 

“I don’t even know if I should go back to Lance’s,” he says, voice quiet. “I really messed up.”

“It wasn’t just an argument was it?” Shiro asks, his robotic arm hanging to the side.

“We argue all the time, but we don’t really—” Keith stops mid-sentence. Even if Lance won't admit it out loud, they're in a relationship, and Keith now realizes what this is. "This was our first fight.”

Curtis exchanges a knowing glance with Shiro, who sighs. “Maybe you needed a fight.”

“I was asking too much of him, and now I probably freaked him out." He leans forward on the handles, burying his face in his hands. "God, I’m so stupid.”

He feels a light hand on his back and looks over at Curtis smiling from over his shoulder. “I think you should head home.”

The reassurance reignites him.

“Yeah, okay.” Then it occurs to him. “How do I get to Cuba from here?”

*

A teleduv and a cosmic space wolf zap later, Keith rides up the now-familiar pathway past the beach and up the dirt road to Lance’s house. Alongside the bike, Kosmo runs next to him, leaping through the trees that line the path. 

Keith turns up the driveway and sees Lance sitting at the foot of the stairs on the front porch. His thin body leans back against the steps, an Altean cigarette dangling from his lips. He pulls it away from his mouth gingerly to blow smoke rings into the night air. It’s annoying how sexy Keith finds the whole display.

When Kosmo gets sight of Lance, the wolf bolts forward. He’s almost too fast for Lance to put out his cigarette in the plastic ashtray, but by the time Kosmo tackles him in slobbery kisses, the cigarette is extinguished. 

“Hi, baby!” Lance cooes, running his hands through soft fur. “Did you have fun escaping from a moving truck? Is your dangerous side all out of your system?”

Keith cuts the engine of his racer, pulling his goggles down so they’re hanging around his neck. His hair is windswept, but Lance doesn’t seem to notice as he doesn’t take the easy jab at how it looks like a bird's nest.

Lance gives Kosmo one more pat before standing to his full height—he’s wearing that stupid oversized denim jacket Keith told him makes him look too much like a stereotypical farmer. But it’s warm, which makes sense because Keith’s breath puffs in front of him as he climbs off his bike and stares across the yard at him. The temperature always drops at night.

It’s been almost two months since Keith landed on Earth in the middle of the night with a bag over his shoulder, Kosmo at his side. His eyes had burned from the tears he refused to let fall. It was Lance who opened the door for him, still in his pajamas. Without question, Lance took him in when he ran away from space like an interstellar lost boy.

It hits Keith that Lance is the same height as him. When they were a part of Voltron, Lance used to slouch next to Keith, and it’d drive Allura nuts. Now he’s standing tall, as if a missing piece has finally slid into place, straightening out his spine and pushing his shoulders back. His marks glow blue on his cheeks, like fireflies, and his hair’s a little shaggy. 

Keith tries to speak, but the words die in his throat. His eyes sting with tears like when he had first landed.

“I had a big, long speech telling your ass off if you came back.” Lance’s voice cracks, swallowing hard. “But screw it.”

Lance extends his arms out wide open, and Keith can’t even muffle the sob that escapes.

He runs, feet kissing the land beneath his boots. Maybe three months ago he would’ve balked at the idea of sprinting such a short distance for an embrace, but he doesn’t care. His feet were made to travel at high speed, and he’s as light as the paws of a lion. 

Breathing steady, heart strong, he crashes into Lance’s arms wailing, “I’m sorry!”

Lance gathers him against his chest, burying his nose in Keith’s hair. “No, _I’m_ sorry!”

“No, shut up! I shouldn’t have left you like that - I ran away. I told you I wouldn’t run away again and I did.”

“You didn’t run, I pushed you away,” Lance argues, pulling back slightly, and Keith can see his own tears falling. “I should’ve told that guy to eat shit. I should’ve made out with you in that crushed velvet bed in front of his homophobic, sexist ass for calling us _friends_.”

Keith can’t help but laugh at the mental image. “Lance, it’s okay. This is new for you, and I was being impatient.”

“You’re always impatient.” Lance sighs, rubbing his thumb across Keith’s cheeks. Blunt nails catch tears and whisk them away. “You shoot first, ask questions later.”

“And then we can’t ask questions, because everyone would be dead,” Keith finishes, reaching up to hold Lance’s face in his hands. His blue eyes are wide with surprise, and deep down it annoys him more that even when Keith zapped out of a moving car, Lance still somehow blames himself for this fight. 

He’s seen this Lance before, a ghost from when he was dating Allura. Where he’d blame all their fights on himself and not the crushing weight of the universe that was on her shoulders. 

“I was too much,” he whispers, and Keith loses his cool a bit, pushing Lance’s cheek together until he looks like a fish. “Ow! Keef, stawp!”

“Listen to me,” Keith demands, staring straight into the ocean that captured him like a siren’s song when he was seventeen. “You are never too much. I will take all of you, and never complain. Even if I get mad and we have stupid fights about beds, I will always come back. I promise you.”

Keith would never allow himself to give in to the hope that Lance loves him, but the warmth of Lance’s cheeks in his palms as Lance smiles and brushes Keith’s hands away feels like it could be love-adjacent. When soft, tan hands brush the messy dark hair from his face, it’s gentle like love could be. And when a cheeky laugh fills his ear, it sounds similar to what love could sound like.

Lance lets out a heavy, exaggerated sigh. “You conveniently came back right after the central air, kitchen cabinet and bed guys all wrapped up work. I had to do it all alone, so you're not off the hook for that."

Keith laughs into his neck. "Okay fair. I _also_ promise to be on call when the roof guys come tomorrow, and I'll even put up the ugly curtains in the living room."

Lance lifts his chin up and whispers against his lips, "That seems like a good place to start."

It rips out another laugh, one that's contagious enough to catch Lance. He twirls them around the front yard in a dance, and for the first time since landing, Keith can feel the peace and serenity Allura fought to provide them in this universe. 

When Keith dips Lance (mostly as a joke), the look that flashes across his face makes his stomach swoop. 

If this isn't what being loved is, it definitely feels close.

*

The first time Lance kisses Keith outside of sex, it’s in the _rain_.

"Hold it steady!" Keith barks around the wrench he's chomped between his teeth as he stands on a ladder in the middle of the shower. Lance is supposed to be keeping it from sliding as he installs the showerhead.

"I am!" 

Keith growls, spitting the wrench out of his mouth to tighten the knob. "I don't understand why you need a custom showerhead! Just use the one they gave you!"

"It's a rainfall showerhead, Keith! Do you have any taste?"

"Taste doesn't mean anything if this shit doesn't work!" Keith points to the oversized shower head with the screwdriver in his other hand. "Is this even water efficient? Aren't you wasting enough water with that tub of yours?"

"You love the clawfoot tub, you hypocrite!" Lance slaps his leg, not enough to budge him from the ladder but enough to show his annoyance. "And aside from being _relaxing -"_

Keith snorts as he tries another readjustment. 

Lance continues. "A benefit of installing a rainfall showerhead is it'll actually be conserving water," he prattles, smugly. "Hunk says today's high-efficiency showerheads release less than 2.5 gallons of water per minute!"

"It'll be releasing zero gallons if we can't get this piece of junk to work," Keith huffs, leaning forward on the ladder. "This doesn't make any sense—there's no pipe blockage. Why isn't it working?"

Lance raises an eyebrow. "You want me to call Coran?"

"No! We already called him about the window screens, I can handle a simple faucet head."

From his post at the bottom of the ladder, Lance doesn't seem convinced. 

"How about Pidge?"

"Lance!"

"We literally have the minds of the universe's greatest engineers on speed dial, and you're being stubborn over a showerhead!"

"I thought it was a rainfall showerhead," Keith mocks and raises his nose up using a posh voice. "I'm Lance and if my showers don't feel like it's the rainy season in the Amazon jungle, I simply cannot bathe!"

"Haha, you're so funny, Keith," Lance deadpans, pushing off the ladder to turn toward the bathroom door. "Too bad we can't all shower with a hose and bucket like _some people_."

He starts to leave, and Keith calls after him, "At least the hose fucking works!"

Keith curses under his breath, dropping his screwdriver into the waiting toolbox with a _clang!_ With Lance gone, he needs to keep himself steady.

"You want a beer?" Lance yells from downstairs and Keith grunts.

"Yeah!"

Lance replies with a noise that sounds close enough to affirmation, so Keith goes back to trying to demystify the showerhead.

"What is your secret, you bougie piece of shit?"

He leans in close to the faucet, hundreds of tiny jets stare back dryly. 

Then, there's a gurgle of pipes and before Keith can pull away, the shower bursts with water at high speed. It's like a white water rapids ride exploded into each of his oral cavities. 

He's being waterboarded by a showerhead.

Choking, he pushes back and slips off the ladder. He tries to get a grip, but the water pressure forces him away and he hits every step on the way down. He lands on the tile floor with a heavy thud, water cascading against the wall wildly.

Lance rushes into the bathroom gleefully, two cold beers in his hands. "Keith! I figure it - oh _woah!"_

Spotting Keith's drenched form at the edge of the shower, Lance scurries over to lower the water pressure. The grand rapids are slowly replaced with a light summer storm. He crouches down next to Keith, the knees of his jeans getting soaked.

Lifting Keith's chin gingerly, Lance's brows furrow. "Are you okay?" 

"That was _not_ less than 2.5 gallons of water per minute," Keith groans, coughing up some residual water that flew into his nose. Lance rubs comforting circles on his back. "I told you I could figure it out."

Guilt flashes over Lance's face as he scans the floor. "Actually...the water wasn't on."

"WHAT?!"

"I'm sorry!" Lance can't stop snickering. "I thought you would get down after I offered you a beer!"

"You nearly drowned me!" Keith screeches, and Lance’s snickers turn into full-blown laughter. "What's so funny?!"

Lance leans forward and presses his lips against Keith's, they're wet from the water still spilling from the shower. It's quick, soft but full of affection. When he pulls back, his marks are shimmering.

"You look like an angry, wet cat with your hair all matted," he confesses, but Keith can feel the blush creeping across his cheeks.

"Oh...okay."

Lance tilts his head to the side. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, it's just…" Keith feels stupid being so flustered by a peck when they've done _much_ more intimate activities together. He can't help but bring a finger to his lips. "You've never done _that_ before."

"Done what?"

“Kiss me first."

When his brows furrow, Keith is annoyed he may have to spell it out for Lance. Luckily, he catches on to what he means and a blush blooms across his face. He never noticed this when they were younger, but there's a constellation of freckles lining the bridge of Lance's nose from the sun.

"I never thought…" Lance stumbles, his throat bobs when he swallows nervously. "Is this okay?"

Keith runs his hands through Lance's soaked hair. His wet shirt clings to his broad shoulders and muscled arms. "Yes."

Lance leans in, wet lips over his. "Can I do it again?"

"You don't need to ask."

The smile spreading across Lance's face is bright enough to charge a teleduv. He pulls at Keith's shirt, capturing his lips and kissing the life out of him. Keith sighs, letting Lance lead—which is a massive mistake because he leads them right under the shower fall.

"Lance!" Keith groans and Lance snorts as he tries to duck away from the spray.

"My bad—I thought it'd be romantic to kiss in the rain!"


	5. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I love you.” 
> 
> Keith adjusts himself in the clawfoot tub, warm water sloshing against his sore body as he turns to glance up at Lance across from him in the tub. On his cheeks, his marks are a soft glow against the steam. It's dark in the house, night overtaking everything.
> 
> The clock in the hallway strikes midnight, and it’s officially no longer Lance’s birthday. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm slowly recovering from pneumonia, but please enjoy this new chapter! 
> 
> It's Lance's birthday, ya'll.

It’s Lance’s birthday and they’re almost done with the house.

The kitchen is done, even though they’re missing some key pieces like cups and utensils that aren’t plastic. Lance’s dream bathroom is the oasis he’s always dreamed of, and the downstairs bathroom isn’t far behind. Keith thinks within the next two weeks they can finally call it complete.

Lance has even gotten a daybed for the guest bedroom. Keith hasn’t slept in it once.

Keith is up before the sun, Kosmo padding around him as he gets ready for his morning run. Usually, he’ll attempt to coax Lance out of bed to join him, but it’s his birthday so he’ll let him sleep in. His head is buried so deep into the pillows all Keith can spot are a few unruly curls peeking out from beneath the comforter. 

He leans forward in a motion that’s become as routine as their mornings, a small lock of his hair tumbles from where he couldn’t capture it in an elastic. Keith curls it around his ear, careful not to let it brush against Lance’s nose and wake him. He pauses a moment to take in the sight of Lance’s features, completely relaxed and unbothered. Freckles sparkle around the twin azure marks beneath his eyelashes, fluttering as he dreams. Keith’s lips peck his cheek, softly.

As his lips leave the side of Lance’s face, the exact spot where they had come into contact with Lance burns and tingles. A hot blazing fire pulses through him, a small grin creeping onto his face. It’s by far the least intimate romantic gesture they’ve shared, but Keith can still feel his own cheeks going red. 

“Happy Birthday, Lance.”

Lance doesn’t reply, his nose making soft whistling noises as he sleeps. 

Keith’s run takes him around the farmland, running up paths where he recognizes the familiar faces of the locals starting their day. It's still summer vacation, so he spots young kids in the backs of their family’s pickups on their way to the beach or into town for whatever mischief they’ll get up to for the day. They wave to him, his presence becoming a familiar fixture in the small oceanside town. The neighbors no longer as impressed by Keith or his giant space wolf.

His favorite runs are the ones Lance takes with him. He’ll always detour their route so they’re by the sand dunes. Lance has been complaining about wanting to surf before the season’s over. The way he explains the sensation of rising with the waves as they crest sounds similar to how Keith feels when he’s flying. 

Not in a rush to get home and wake Lance from his beauty sleep, Keith turns onto the beach with Kosmo. The morning chill clings to the air and the oceanfront is empty, spare the few fishing hands heading toward the docks. Toeing off his shoes, and shoving his socks in his sneakers, he lets the cool seafoam wash over his bare feet in the sand. Next to him, Kosmo nips at the waves, trying to catch them as he splashes around in the saltwater.

There's a joy in it, feeling waves of serenity wash over him as steadily as the ocean.

It's standing there in the sunlight, existing in each sweet moment as if it were the only one, the past falling away with gentle acceptance. 

During the early days of Voltron, Keith never understood why Lance had missed the ocean as much as he did. Growing up in the desert, Keith certainly hadn’t missed the dirt or dust storms. To him, Earth was just the place where he had lived. It wasn’t anything special, especially after seeing all the countless planets they had liberated, explored or had dropped in on during their adventures. After being thrown into the middle of the universe, his shack surrounded by dirt had felt even smaller.

But the way Lance talks about the ocean reminds him just how vast his home planet really is. The same place with the roaring ocean also has lush green forests and fiery volcanoes. There are mountains as high as he’s flown his lion, and snowcaps colder than any winter he could imagine. All in the same place, in balanced harmony.

By comparison, Daibazaal’s dark purples and sprawling cities have felt so insignificant.

The sun hides behind the clouds, the haze giving the sky a menacing, overcast presence. Considering it as good a sign as any to head back, Keith gives a quick whistle, and Kosmo clambers out of the ocean, shaking water all over the sand as he dries. 

Keith is smart enough to get out of the line of fire.

Running back up the path towards the house, Keith falls into a comfortable pace next to Kosmo. His slow gate is almost soundless as his sneakers kiss the road and the exercise warms his muscles. With the cloud cover intensifying, it’s chiller than usual as a fog rolls in.

“Hey! Keith!”

A car horn rips through the air, and he turns to spot a familiar pickup truck veer up the road. Seemingly unaware of the road or the haze, the truck moves to pull over on the shoulder where he’s stopped running, lights on high beam. Keith covers his eyes with his hands, as the window rolls down and Lance’s brother Luis appears, his wife Lisa sitting in the front seat.

The oldest of the McClain siblings, Luis is the most grounded of the crop. His good spirit and easygoing attitude made him easy for Keith to warm up to, although it still baffles him how he keeps his cool while Nadia and Silvio are constantly getting into mischief.

“Want a ride?” Lisa asks, her hands laying on her swollen abdomen. She’s four months pregnant and already starting to show. Another thing that baffles Keith. Two kids already seem exhausting, a third feels impossible. By then, you’re just outnumbered.

“Thanks, but we’re almost back,” Keith replies, but before he adds anything else, a scrawny leg burst through the back window as Silvio squeezes through the opening. He tumbles into the bed of the truck, with Nadia not far behind.

“You can sit in the back with us!” Silvio announces with all the blind gusto that’s expected of an eleven-year-old boy. Next to him, his younger sister’s head nods in agreement.

“Kosmo can fit back here,” she adds, leaning over the side of the tuck to stick her hand out for the wolf. “Jump! Come on, Kosmo!”

Keith chuckles, nervously. “Guys, I don’t think Kosmo wants to—” there’s a quick flash of light as the wolf teleports from the ground and into the bed of the truck. “And...nevermind.”

The children cheer in victory, tackling the space wolf with pets and cuddles. Luis turns around to scold his children in Spanish, and Lisa seems more exasperated. 

“Looks like he got wolf-napped,” she jokes, leaning her chin on her hand as her elbow rests against the window. “Sure you don’t want a lift?”

“There’s definitely not enough room for me back there.” Keith shakes his head with a smile, thumbing up the path. “Where are you guys heading?”

“Abuela’s house!” Nadia says between giggles and blue fur. “We’re gonna surprise Tía Rachel and Tío Lance for their birthday.”

“As if you two could surprise anyone with how loud you are,” Luis sighs, looking back to shake his head affectionately. “We’ll meet you at the farm, ya?”

Keith nods and watches as the truck drives away, Nadia and Silvio holding up Kosmo’s giant paw in a wave goodbye as they head up the path.

When he meets up with them at Lance's parents' house, he spots Rachel on the front stoop, sitting on the steps.

"Happy Birthday, Rachel," he says as ways of greeting. The tall woman looks up when she hears her name and smiles at Keith. 

She fluffs her long, curly hair in mock modesty. "Oh Keith, coming here in tight workout spandex as a gift? You shouldn't have."

He looks down at his t-shirt, shorts and jogging legging in reactionary embarrassment, and Rachel throws her head back in laughter.

"I'm kidding, you dork!" Rachel snorts, standing and giving him a tight hug. "I know I'm not your type, and Lance would kill me if I stole you from under his nose."

"You're ridiculous," Keith groans, and notices her outfit and boots. "You're not doing farm work on your birthday, are you?"

"It's a tradition Lancey and I have," she explains, kicking out her leg. "We don't give each other gifts on our birthday, but we gotta do something the other doesn't want to do. I got stuck with cleaning the chicken coop."

Keith wrinkles his nose. "That seems rough."

"It's fine," she shrugs, and Keith follows her as she walks to the coops. The breakoff to Lance's house is on the way. "I had Lance break up with Petey for me."

Keith gasps. "Wait, Pizza Parlor Petey? I thought you guys were hitting it off!"

"We were, and he's nice, but he's just so," she pauses, trying to find the right term. "I dunno, bland? Average?"

"He owns a Pizza Parlor, that didn't seem pretty average." Keith frowns trying to figure it out. "Anyway, I don't see how breaking up with someone for you is the same caliber as having to clean out the chicken coop."

"Petey's garlic knots were Lance's favorite."

"Okay, now I get it."

"Poor thing took it so hard." Rachel presses her hand over her heart.

"Petey?"

"No, Lance."

They laugh as they reach the break in the path. Rachel waves off, reminding him to wake up her "lazybones" twin before the family dinner that night. Keith checks his watch, and sees it's barely eight as he climbs up the porch steps and unlocks the door. He’s just toed off his running shoes when he hears noises coming from the kitchen. He jogs around the corner of the mud-room to the kitchen, where he’s assuming Lance has finally woken up.

What he isn't expecting is the scene of Silvio and Nadia, covered in flour with Kosmo at their heels. Both kids are wearing novelty aprons Pidge brought the last time she visited: a blue _"CHOP IT LIKE IT’S HOT"_ and a red _"DO NOT KISS THE COOK."_ They're swimming in the fabric, standing on Lance's new dining chairs as they mix a mysterious concoction in Lance's new mixing bowl, and splatter batter all over Lance's new countertops.

"What the heck are you two doing?!" Keith hisses, skidding into the kitchen in his socks.

Nadia doesn't look up from her bowl. "Making breakfast for Tío Lance."

“How’d you even get in here? The door was locked!

“Kosmo,” answers Silvio, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And okay, fair. He did have a teleporting wolf, and he was staying with Lance, so it wasn’t completely unlikely that two children could break into their kitchen using a teleporting wolf. Silvio lifts himself onto the counter and begins rummaging through cabinets. “Where do you keep the cooking spray?”

“And can you turn on the oven, please?” Nadia requests, sweetly. “Mama says we aren't allowed to do it after the last time.”

“No!” Keith scolds, grabbing Silvio by the torso and lifting him up. The boy’s all bony limbs and sharp elbows. “Lance is gonna kill us if he sees this mess!”

“It’s not a mess!” Silvio argues as he tries to squirm from Keith’s hold. “It’s tradition!”

Keith raises an eyebrow at the boy, turning instead to his sister and demanding, “Explain.”

Nadia sighs overdramatically, as if she’s far older than eight-years-old, instead of a depleted old woman. She puts her tiny hands on her hips. “Every year we make Tío Lance breakfast for his birthday, ‘cause when he was in space we missed lots of birthdays!”

“Tía Rachel would get sad when we tried to do birthday breakfast without him,” Silvo explains, having gone limp in Keith’s hold. “Then the Bad Guys came to Earth and we had to wait _forever_ to do birthday breakfast.”

“But now it’s tradition again!” Nadia claps her hands together, excitedly. “We used to do it at Abuela’s house, but here we don’t know where anything is to make pancakes.”

The story is a sweet reminder of the family Lance had always missed during their travels. Turns out, his family had missed him just as much.

Keith’s shoulders unwind as he reflects on the chaos spread across the kitchen. The number of McClain traditions around birthdays was unlike anything Keith had ever experienced before. Even with his foster families, they would buy him a small cake and call it a day. 

Although he doesn’t fully get it, that doesn’t mean Keith can’t embrace the sentiment to celebrate. 

Dropping Silvio to the ground, Keith turns to the children. “Maybe I can help you guys out.” 

Silvio and Nadia’s faces light up with excitement. 

*

Once the pancakes are made, and the stove is safely off, Keith takes a quick shower as Nadia and Silvio take their time setting up the tray. When he's done, he checks the clock and sees it's a quarter past nine—the perfect time for breakfast.

Knowing better than to trust two overeager, hyperactive kids with balancing a tray full of food, he takes it by the handles and allows Silvio to lead the way. When he hurries up the stairs, Nadia isn't far behind. They wait for him in front of Lance’s bedroom door, like he’s part of the family. Together, they push the door open and shout, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Lance jumps from his bed like an air raid alarm has gone off. Frazzled and half-asleep, he barely processes what's happening before he's met with an armful of children.

"Woah!" Lance laughs, the aroma of the breakfast wafting around the room. "Silvio! Nadia! What are you doing here?"

Nadia climbs to her knees, smushing Lance's face with her smaller hands. "We made your birthday breakfast!"

Lance laughs, and Keith places the tray of food down to keep it from spilling. He looks over Nadia’s shoulder to spot Keith, and it makes Keith's heart swoop. The scene is something he can envision so easily in this house, only instead of nieces and nephews, it's Lance's own children celebrating with hugs and breakfast in bed. The fantasy comes to life so easily, it's like he's back in the Quantum Abyss seeing flashes of the future. 

His thoughts are broken when he sees Lance extending his hand toward him. Still an awkward thing after all these years, Keith reaches out as if to give Lance a high-five. When Lance’s long fingers wrap around his own and pull him into the bed, Keith grunts. 

“C’mon, roomie!” Lance laughs when Keith is a mess of limbs on the bed, desperately trying to avoid knocking over the tray of food that sits on Lance’s lap. “Birthday breakfast is for everyone.”

Keith can barely keep himself from smiling as Nadia piles high a stack of pancakes on a plate for him, shoving them into his face gracelessly. It’s more than he can possibly eat, but it doesn’t seem to phase anyone as they continue to stuff their faces with fruits and eggs, toast, hash browns and all the other confectionaries that litter the tray.

Rachel comes inside a half-hour later, hair sticking up in all directions. Keith isn’t sure how she got into the house, as Kosmo has fallen into a food coma at their feet thanks to the platefuls of food Silvio and Nadia have smuggled him. 

“It’s raining out,” she announces. She kicks her boots off in the hallway before climbing into the bed with them to tackle her twin into the covers and blowing a raspberry on Lance’s face. "Happy birthday, younger twin!”

“Only by three minutes!” Lance whines, thrashing in her grip and trying to escape her hold. She dodges his swatting. “Space lag doesn’t count!”

“Totally counts,” she teases, taking a forkful of the leftover pancake on the tray that still sits on the bed. “Oh wow, these are great!”

“They’re strawberry,” Nadia adds, helpfully as she rests her head against Rachel’s side. 

“Get your gross feet out of my bed! You smell like a hen house,” Lance huffs, but Rachel just takes the pancake off the plate, ignoring his pathetic whines of protest.

Through some kind of maneuvering, the five of them somehow squeeze into the bed. Rachel and Lance chat idly as Rachel finishes off the pancakes. Keith can feel himself drifting off to sleep, the only thing keeping him awake is the jutting pains of Silvio’s elbow in his side, and Nadia’s dead weight on his arm.

Keith's eyes drift away to watch the raindrops hit the window, each raindrop a kaleidoscope of shapes.

He’s always wondered what it would be like to peek through each raindrop beading upon the glass. Soon they’ll pool together, forming puddles, opening up a whole new avenue of rain-related fun for Lance's niblings. 

The night before Keith left Team Voltron for the Blades, he wandered next door to Lance’s bedroom. Initially, his aim was to apologize for missing another of the coalition shows, knowing how much Lance valued the spectacle. What he found instead was Lance on the floor curled in on himself, completely distraught. 

Keith was never good at comforting people (one of the central reasons why he was eyeing the exit for his role as Team Leader), but when Lance's watery blue eyes met his, he knew he was trapped. It was the only time during that era he didn't run away. He just joined Lance on the floor and listened as his right-hand man babbled about the home he left behind, his family and the way his family's farm smelled after a summer rainstorm.

It's three things Keith has been able to experience for himself this summer and he now understands why Lance missed them so much while he was in space.

Keith starts to slowly drift off, only the occasional chatter between Lance and Rachel keeping him from fully drifting into unconsciousness. He’s in that weird in-between state, where his thoughts don’t exactly make sense.

He thinks about how fun it would be to sit inside a raindrop with Lance and take a gravity propelled ride to the earth. As he imagines it, he feels his inner self laughing a little at the crazy daydream and a little at his own silliness.

Perhaps it isn't normal to love rainy days so much, but who cares about normal anyway? Keith is pretty sure "normal" is a made-up construct.

Keith knows he's a man on borrowed time. But he’s starting to plant roots in the soft soil of the McClain farm, and it’s easier than he ever thought possible. 

Lance's fingers find his under the blankets, long digits with perfectly manicured cuticles grip his nail-bitten stubs. Against everything in his psyche, Keith squeezes back.

It's borrowed time, so every second counts.

When the rain eases into a light drizzle, Rachel gets up and corrals Silvio and Nadia out of the depths of warmth in their blanket cocoons. They hug Lance goodbye as he sits up in bed, and before Keith can comprehend what’s happening, he has an armful of children hugging him tightly.

“See you later, Tío Keith!” Nadia smiles, gaps from missing baby teeth on full display. 

He grips the front of his shirt and watches them scurry out of the bedroom, Rachel waving goodbye as she closes the bedroom door. The room’s silence pulses hard against his ears.

“Keith?”

He’s pulled from his trance when he catches Lance’s clear, blue eyes searching his face. “You okay?”

Swallowing hard, Keith tries to clear his throat to find his voice again but fails. He’s so deeply overwhelmed by the warmth seeping from his heart and flooding into his veins. It’s like his bloodstream is spreading the affection throughout his body, up to his fingertips and down to his toes. After a moment, a knowing smile spreads across Lance's face

“Keith!” Lance teases, smiling at him with that same flirty grin Keith has seen countless times before. Somehow, it still manages to send butterflies swirling in his stomach and does nothing to stop the warmth from spreading. If anything, it intensifies. “Or should I say, _Tío_ Keith?”

“Shut up!” Keith groans, burrowing his head into the pillow to hide his shame. He can feel his ears warm, and he’s sure the pink tips peeking from his hair are giving him away. Lance laughs, following him between the sheets.

“It’s okay! I get it—terms of endearment freak you out,” he says softly, coaxing Keith to face him. It takes a few seconds, but Keith’s need for fresh air overtakes his need for self-preservation. Lance’s hands find their way into the tangles of Keith’s locks. “But try to take it as a compliment. Nadia and Silvio aren’t easy to win over—I think Marco’s girlfriend Lucy has been trying to get them to like her for years.”

Keith stays quiet, still searching those deep blue eyes for something he isn’t sure he’d recognize if he found it. Quickly, Lance’s face softens, and Keith feels a distinct spike of panic when he sees Lance realize what he’s said.

“Not that we’re like Marco and Lucy,” he blurts, cheeks blushing as he looks away from Keith. “The kids probably just like you because you piloted a giant robot and have a teleporting space wolf.”

“Yeah.” Keith smiles, watching as Lance slowly considers him. “I guess Lucy doesn’t have shit on me, huh?”

The smile that blooms across Lance’s face is lopsided, goofy and Keith’s absolute favorite. Lance squirms closer to Keith, coiling his arms around his neck as he expertly flips them so he’s resting above him. He peppers kisses across his face. “No, she doesn’t—so says I, the birthday king.”

“Is that another McClain birthday tradition? King for a day?”

“No, but we can make it our new tradition,” Lance muses, lips brushing against Keith’s. “I get to ask you for anything I want.”

“Like what?”

Lance looks down at Keith through his lashes, his marks shimmering—he’s adorably bashful. It makes Keith’s heart skip a beat, holding tighter around Lance’s waist, patiently waiting for the answer. Eventually, some of Lance’s usual confidence returns.

“Keith, I want to have se-”

The door flies open without any warning, sending them both jumping in surprise.

“Lancey, do you have an umbrella?” Rachel asks before quickly seeing the position they are in on the bed. Her face flushes beet red as she slams the door closed again. “Oops! Nevermind!”

Lance groans, rolling off Keith to yell at the door, “Rachel, get out of my house already!”

Keith stays where he is, staring at the ceiling, mind still spinning with shock.

Was Lance seriously just about to ask him for birthday sex?

*

Lance’s and Rachel’s birthday dinner is a full-house ordeal.

Luckily, the rain had stopped and left them with a night sky full of stars. The party is hosted in Lance’s parent’s garden that’s been decorated with strung up lights and a bonfire making the air around them feel like a warm hug. 

Hunk is still traveling with Shay, and Coran is stuck negotiating some trade agreements that have gone awry on New Altea, but the rest of the Garrison crew is able to teleduv in for the celebration. Shiro and Curtis ask way too many questions about the status of Lance’s house. Meanwhile, Pidge and Romelle guard an Oreo cookie cake Hunk provided with their lives from Kosmo, Nadia, and Silvio. 

There are a few video calls from space that Lance takes from Veronica and others. However, Keith dodges the camera when Lance tries to tour the celebration—the last thing he needs is his location to be outed because he’s in the background of a Facetime call.

Of course, Lance completely ignores his discomfort and demands _many_ pictures with everyone. It’s a damn minefield avoiding Lance’s phone like a motion-sensing laser at the end of a Sentry blaster. 

“You’re acting strange,” Romelle notes, a large cut of cake on her plate. Beside her, Pidge nods.

“Why are you avoiding your boyfriend?”

“Lance is _not_ my boyfriend!”

“Funny, I didn’t say Lance.” Pidge gives him a smug grin. The tone of her voice is enough to catch Shiro’s attention.

“Are you teasing Keith?” he asks, not waiting for a reply. “His relationship with Lance is very new, give him some space.”

Keith huffs. “I am not in a relationship with -”

The rest of the sentence is lost as Lance bamboozles him with a sneak attack, phone extended and the camera front-facing. Keith has always had faster reflexes, and manages to send the phone soaring into the air with a rough swat of Lance’s wrist. It lands with a thud in the middle of an empty punch bowl that had been spiked by at least three people. 

“Keith!” Lance screeches, grabbing the device from the oversized ceramic bowl. The ordeal is enough to send Romelle, Pidge and Shiro scurrying off to talk to the rest of Lance’s family.

Once it’s clear Lance’s phone hasn’t suffered any lasting damage, Keith frowns. “I told you to stop taking my picture!”

“I don’t have a single picture of you from this entire night! What gives?”

Lance leans a hand on his hip, and it becomes evident his frustration is a cover-up. The last thing Keith wants to do is make Lance feel self-conscious, but he also doesn’t want to ruin his birthday by blurting out the tiny detail that he’s currently avoiding half the galaxy at the moment.

He doesn't want to hurt him.

"I just don't like my picture taken," he says. The answer he settled on seems to confuse Lance, but he doesn't push it. Instead, he taps his phone nervously. 

"But we don't have any photos together where it's just us," he confesses, looking slightly guilty. "Would it really be so bad to take a picture with me?"

Keith feels his resolve crumble like a sandcastle to a wave.

"Fine," he sighs, running a hand through his hair to control the chaos his hair tie can't contain. "But don't post it anywhere!"

“Deal!” Lance grins like he has gotten away with something, the marks at the corners of his eyes crinkling. Beckoning Keith over, he wraps his long arm around his neck and pulls him in so they’re cheek-to-cheek for a selfie. Romelle and Pidge pass by, plates now empty.

“Do you want any help?” Romelle offers and Lance shakes his head.

“We’re good,” he replies, and it’s enough for the girls to keep moving. A quiet voice in the back of Keith’s mind notes just how unphased their friends are at their closeness. Speaking of which, Keith can smell the ghost of alcohol lingering on Lance’s breath he’s so close.

Lance pulls the phone closer. “Say _Mullet_!”

“Lance!”

Keith makes a lame attempt to squirm away, but Lance pulls him closer and presses his mouth against the side of his face in a strange open-mouth kiss. It makes Keith blush all the way up to his ears. Before he can yell at him, Lance blows hard against his skin, triggering a raspberry. It tickles and pulls laughter from Keith unlike anything he’s heard in years, and that’s when Lance snaps the shot of them.

Lance chuckles darkly when he pulls away, free hand still lingering around Keith as he rubs the spot where an angry red mark is blossoming.

“Cheap trick, McClain.”

“Nope,” Lance replies, popping the P and flipping his phone screen to share the shot. “Got you to smile.”

Keith looks at the picture. It's him smiling widely mid-laughter while Lance is pulled into his neck, looking up at the camera through his eyelashes. The amusement at his own ruse is not lost.

“It’s cute,” Lance muses, tapping a few things on his phone.

“What are you doing? I told you not to post it!”

“I’m not. Relax, you caveman.” Lance’s brows furrow. When he flips his phone again, it displays their selfie as his lock screen. “This is all I wanted to do with it.”

“Update your phone background?” Keith asks, a suspicious brow cocked high. Lance shrugs.

“That way I can see you even when you eventually get tired of the farm and head back up to space.”

Keith feels the sense doubt leave him as he looks up at Lance in the middle of the garden. With the sun down, it’s getting colder and small puffs of air escape his chapped lips. The garden lights twinkle around him like he's some sort of ethereal being. Keith fights the emotion bubbling in his throat. The way Lance is looking at him is exactly how his teenage self had yearned for on the back of that lonely space whale. 

These last weeks, Keith has gone to bed with Lance, woke up next to him, and spent every waking moment of his day within arm’s reach of him. Sometimes Lance would mindlessly thread their fingers together as they toured the grounds, or would rest his head on Keith’s shoulder. Even tonight, it seemed pretty clear to their friends and family they were _together_ even if they haven’t used the term “boyfriend” in conversation. 

It doesn’t really come as much of a surprise, he remembers how Lance was with Allura. It’s always all or nothing with him, and right now he’s definitely giving Keith his all. But after watching from the sidelines as Lance gave himself to women who never seemed to truly appreciate him, Keith never thought he would be lucky enough to be on the receiving end of such a gift.

Lance tucks a stray piece of black hair behind his ear that’s fallen out of his ponytail again. “I didn’t mean to trick you into smiling. I just like seeing it.”

“You’re forgiven,” Keith replies, allowing himself to stare into the bright blue eyes simmering like a roiling boil. He turns away before he gets too lost. “So, about your birthday gift.”

"Oh? You got me a gift?"

“Not really, but if you still want to.” Keith motions between them with his hand. “We can. Y’know, for your birthday.”

Lance tilts his head to the side. “Want to...what?”

Keith frowns, unsure if Lance is being purposely difficult or if he’s just dense. “You know.”

“I don’t know.” Lance is visibly frustrated that Keith isn’t being clear on the key part of the conversation. “Is this some kind of surprise? A secret?”

“No!”

“Then just tell me!”

“Ugh, you’re so fucking—" Keith grunts, wanting to scream but instead hisses through his teeth, “You can _fuck_ me, you fucking idiot!”

Lance looks a little taken aback for a second as if Keith still isn’t being direct enough. Then he clears his throat and a tick later, the mischievous glint is back in his eyes.

Keith’s chest feels like it’s crumbling in on itself, much like his resolve not to do anything and everything Lance ever asks of him.

Lance grins, no doubt sensing he is about to get his way, like always. “For real?”

“Don’t make me say it twice.”

He feels Lance’s arms wrap around his midsection, swaying them both to the music floating from Matt’s speakers. He leans close to Keith’s ear, hot breath skirting against the outer-shell.

“I’ll make you say it twice, or maybe even three times. I’ll have you begging until you never want to go back to your furry space ninjas ever again,” he whispers, groping his ass.

Keith tries his best to seem unaffected, but the rapid beating of his heart gives him away.

･ ｡ ☆∴｡ * 

･ﾟ*｡★･ 

･ *ﾟ｡ 

･ ﾟ*｡･ﾟ★｡ 

☆ﾟ･｡°*. ﾟ * 

｡·*･｡ ﾟ

“Lance?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.” 

Keith adjusts himself in the clawfoot tub, warm water sloshing against his sore body as he turns to glance up at Lance across from him in the tub. On his cheeks, his marks are a soft glow against the steam. It's dark in the house, night overtaking everything.

The clock in the hallway strikes midnight, and it’s officially no longer Lance’s birthday. 

“You really love me?”

They stare at each other for a moment, before he leans up to give Lance’s lips a tiny, shy kiss. “I do. I really love you,” he says softly, so shy but not uncertain.

“No one’s ever said it to me first before.” Lance’s face breaks into a tired smile, holding Keith a little tighter. “I actually don’t know how to respond to someone confessing to me.”

“You don’t have to say it back,” Keith whispers, leaning to press their foreheads together.

Lance blinks steadily back at him as his smile fades. He looks vaguely guilty, and Keith hates the thought that he might’ve ruined his first-time by overwhelming him. “I’ll still be here.”

“I like that.” Lance sighs, pressing a kiss against the top of his head. “You being here.”

Keith smiles, turning to lean his ear against Lance’s chest to hear his heartbeat. “Me too.”


	6. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance turns to him, dead-serious, and says, “We should get married.”

The next morning, Keith is rudely awakened by Lance kneeing him. Next to him, Lance groans and buries his head into the back of Keith’s neck, lazily trying to wake him up.

“Keith,” he whines, morning breath thick as he nuzzles his cheek into Keith’s skin. It’s prickly with stubble. “Your phone.”

Keith yawns, squinting as he blindly reaches out for his communicator. Still hazy with sleep, he doesn’t realize the call he’s answered is video until Hunk’s face lights up the whole screen.

“Hunk?” his eyes widen the second he’s registered who he’s looking at. “Why are you calling me? Romelle said you and Shay were in the Nex Nebula plucking space tomatoes.”

“Space mushrooms,” Lance corrects, turning on his side. Hunk doesn’t hear him.

“Oh my gosh, Keith! I’m so happy I got you!” Hunk starts, his voice a familiar panic. “I was going to call Lance for his birthday, but I just saw Veronica and Acxa at the Olkarion teleduv, and Keith, _ohmygosh_ , Keith, I really messed up! I’m so sorry!”

In the screen that shows his own face, Keith sees Lance peak up from over his shoulder. Sleep-mussed hair and eyes still squinting in the morning light. “You better be, big guy. Kinda late on the birthday wishes.”

“Awww, I’m sorry! The time difference messed me up. Happy Birthday, buddy!” Hunk smiles. Keith feels an anxious pit form heavy in his gut when he sees Hunk do a double-take. “Woah! Are you guys sharing a bed?” A pause. “Are you both _naked_?”

“Hunk, focus!” Keith barks, adjusting the blanket in a lame attempt to cover his nudeness. “What happened with Veronica and Acxa?”

“Are they okay?” Lance asks, his voice serious. 

“They’re fine—they’re just.” Hunk hesitates, biting his lip before he breaks. “They’re coming to Earth, Keith. I accidentally told Acxa you were there. I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

“A secret?” Lance echoes, looking between Hunk on the phone and Keith in confusion. “Why would it be a secret that you were out here?”

The static crackles through Keith’s phone in awkward silence. When Keith doesn’t respond right away, Lance swallows hard and looks away. 

“Thanks for calling, bud,” Lance says, and his tone is so familiar yet so unfamiliar that Keith is left struggling to piece together what it means. It doesn’t sound good, that’s for sure. He reaches across Keith’s shoulder, thumb hovering over the end button. “We’ll handle it.”

Hunk gives a sad wave goodbye, and Lance taps the end call button. Lance crawls off the bed to find his pants. Keith tosses the phone on his nightstand and reaches down to pull his sweats on. When Lance climbs back on the bed, he leans back on his hands, his expression unreadable. It reminds Keith of every time he’s seen him hold a sniper-rifle. Steady. Confident. He has his mark.

“Tell me everything,” he demands.

Keith struggles, knowing once Lance knows he’s in this too. He’ll be pulling him into his mess, but Keith can never deny him anything.

“I fucking hate Daibazaal,” Keith snaps, and it’s the first time he’s said it out loud. It’s an admission he’s wanted to yell for so long, but could never get himself to say it. “It's dark, it's cold, and everything is so...so loud!” 

“What?” Lance tries, but Keith has gotten to his feet and starts pacing around the bedroom.

“My apartment is too small and doesn’t have anything on the walls because I don’t even want to think about it,” he continues, ignoring Lance as he paces. “Also it’s not like I’m ever there anyway!”

“Wait, you hated home renovation so much that you came to Earth to help me _build a house?_ ”

Keith stops pacing and sighs, flopping back onto the bed. “Everyone looks to me for advice and leadership because I was the head of Voltron, but what they don’t realize is that I was only able to do it because Shiro was there, and Allura was there, and Hunk and Pidge and...and...”

He swallows hard, taking Lance's hand. "You."

They're interrupted by scratching at the door and a thumping heard through the wood. Keith tenses.

“Relax, I don’t think that’s Acxa. She would just kick the door down,” Lance says, climbing to his feet and pulling his robe on. He opens the door and Kosmo barrels through like a wolf on a mission, sensing his master's stress. He sniffs the air and instantly teleports to Keith’s side, smothering his face with slobbery kisses. “You could’ve teleported in here, you drama queen.”

“Takes one to know one,” Keith says, feeling instantly better having Kosmo there with them. Lance manages to squirm between them to take hold of one of Keith’s hands again.

“I didn’t know you felt that way about Daibazaal,” he confesses, eyes sad. “On Allura Day, I thought you were being moody because you were embarrassed people were appreciating you.”

Keith snorts. “Without Voltron or the Blades, I’m worthless in their eyes. It’s another reminder I’m too Human to be Galra, and too Galra to be Human.”

“Stop it,” Lance orders, forcing Keith to look at him with his hand on his chin. “You know that’s bullshit.”

“I _do_ ...at least, I thought I did.” He runs a hand through Kosmo’s fur to comfort himself. “Even when I was trying to figure out _where_ I came from, I always knew _who_ I was. But living there and hearing what Sendak-supporters would call my mom and Kolivan...it broke me down.”

“Ugh, Sendak,” Lance grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t you slice that guy in half? These stinky furry racists should be scared of you!”

"Not all Galra have fur, Lance. We've been through this."

"It doesn't matter what they're made of! They make you doubt yourself and say messed up shit to Krolia and Kolivan!" Lance screeches. "Don't they get that while Sendak was flying around being a racist colonizer, _we_ were saving the universe from folding in on itself?" Lance huffs, shaking his head. 

Keith can't help but let out a soft chuckle. "You good?"

"Yeah, keep going," he grumbles, resting his cheek against Keith's shoulder. "So did you punch one of them and get expelled from Galra school?"

"No." Keith flicks his nose. "My mom and Kolivan were elected as Senators of New Daibazaal by the Galaxy Alliance, which made me First Son."

Lance gasps. "Dude, are you a Galra prince?"

"I just told you they were elected!"

"Yeah, but isn't First Son, like, a royal title?"

"It just means my mom is the head of the government."

"So, like a Queen?" Lance continues, deep in the rabbit hole now, and there was nothing Keith could say to stop where this train of thought was heading. "Oh man, does that mean she and Kolivan are _definitely_ an item? If so, Curtis owes me—"

"Lance!"

"Sorry! Sorry," he squeaks, hands in front of his face in case Keith hit him again.

"The oppositional party claimed I had dual-allegiance and would pick Earth over New Daibazaal, and that would affect Krolia’s ability to lead. As a term of her inauguration, I was supposed to take a loyalty oath to Daibazaal and _only_ to Daibazaal," he explains. "This included forfeiting my alliance to Earth making Daibazaal my only home.”

"Because you killed Sendak to liberate Earth," Lance finishes, and he nods.

"I knew I couldn't do it, but my mom and Kolivan have worked so hard to rebuild Daibazaal and to make it better for those who suffered under Zarkon. When I didn't take up the mantle as Emperor, it allowed them to reimagine Daibazaal as a planet led by people who deserve to rule themselves," Keith explains. "I respect their choice, but the choice they wanted me to make was something I could never do. I may be half-Galra, but Earth is my home, too."

"Then what did you do?"

"I ran away." Keith shrugs. "And came to the only place I could think of that would take me in, no questions asked."

"Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I was charmed by a fugitive on the run.” Lance smiles, leaning in to place a kiss on Keith's forehead. “How does Acxa fit into all this? I thought she was working with Krolia.”

“She is, which is why I made your sister promise not to tell anyone she saw me here.” He gets up again, and heads to their closet to pull out clean clothes. “Now, I’m sure she’s heading here to summon me to take the oath.”

Keith yanks a black shirt from a hanger, pulling it over his head. When he reaches for his jeans, he spots Lance still on the bed in his robe. Kosmo sits, wagging his massive tail nervously. It’s creating a small breeze, like a fan. Lance fidgets with his fingers, his marks glowing softly.

Turning back to the closet, Keith squeezes his eyes shut. “We should get dressed, Acxa could be here any minute.”

Lance doesn’t reply, instead, he stares out into the backyard from the bedroom window. It’s raining again. 

If this was any other morning, they would’ve laid in bed for a few minutes longer and enjoyed listening to the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the glass. Eventually, Lance would’ve pulled them out of bed to shower and get ready for farm work before whatever small details were still awaiting them in the house. 

With a heavy heart, Keith can’t help but think of what they’ve built together in this short amount of time. It’s the closest thing to a home he’s had in years, and now he is going to leave it behind.

“Lance?” Keith asks finally, uncertain of what to say. “Are you okay?”

“I guess so,” Lance answers after a noticeable pause. He turns to Keith with sad empty eyes, and a smile plastered across his lips so wide it looks like it’s paining him to wear it. It’s all fake reassurance for Keith’s sake. “It’s a lot to process.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. This whole mess on Daibazaal is full of political crap that I hate and it’s just...” Keith trails off, uncertain how to explain himself clearly. Lance’s eyes seem to soften with recognition anyway, making Keith feel even more guilty. “It’s really complicated.”

Kosmo sits at Lance’s feet and lies down, head hanging low. Lance rubs a hand between his ears to comfort him, and possibly to comfort himself, too.

Lance shrugs. “Seems pretty simple to me.”

“Oh yeah? What would you do then?” Keith asks, walking back over to sit next to Lance on the still unmade bed. He falls back, lying stretched out on the mattress, legs hanging over the edge. Lance falls back beside him, snatching a pillow from Keith’s side and propping it under his head.

Years ago, the idea of Keith talking about his problems was enough to literally send him packing. He was the poster-child for terrible coping mechanisms and wrapped himself in enough barbwire and nasty glares to keep most people out. Aside from Shiro, Lance was the only other person willing to push through every layer of his defenses like a steamroller. 

However, it’s times like this when Keith realizes just how far Lance has come since the war. 

No longer is Lance the cocky loudmouth who would suppress his own feelings for his friends’ sake. Sure, there are pieces of that still in his personality, but now he’s less scared of the quiet moments. He allows himself to be vulnerable and talks things through rationally, instead of jumping to the nearest conclusion. Keith had picked up on it once Lance had started dating Allura, and it is one of the few lasting influences of their relationship that left a positive impact on Lance’s emotional health. Even if it had put Keith’s heart through a meat grinder at the time. 

“After that final battle, I was still pretty messed up over what had happened. Then Colleen gave me a bag of juniberry seeds from the flowers she’d given Allura,” Lance says, eyes glancing toward the window. “Even though I was raised on a farm, I’d never planted anything before. I always handled stuff around the house or the animals.”

“That explains Kaltenecker,” Keith notes, making Lance smile.

“I didn’t really know what I was doing, and I was so scared I would mess something up and destroy the last thing I had of her,” he continues. “My mom and Rachel helped me learn how to garden, and Pidge came over a few times to help, too. That first season was hard, but I wanted to take care of something with my hands that wasn’t a blaster or the controls of a mechanical lion.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“That first bloom is when I realized I wanted to build a house on this farm,” Lance admits, almost shyly. “I convinced myself it must have been Allura’s magic that made the flowers bloom. I was so clueless. It wasn’t until this summer when you came banging on my front door, I realized that the first bloom wasn’t because of any magic, it was because of everyone I had let back into my life.”

Lance leans his forehead against Keith’s as if resolute to get his message through to him. “Without Allura, there wouldn't even _be_ a New Daibazaal. She wouldn’t want you to feel isolated on a planet that’s a part of who you are, and neither do I. So, whatever you need, I’m here for you because you’re the most important person in my life.”

Keith’s eyes widen with realization. “Lance…”

Never looking away, Lance takes hold of Keith’s hands and places his palms over his chest, half-exposed from where the robe has slipped off his shoulders. “Keith, I -”

The rambunctious blaring of a horn sends them both jolting up off the bed. 

Keith rushes to the window and spots a two-person ship from Daibazaal landing on the grassy field connecting the McClain houses.

“Shit, she’s here.” Keith hurries to grab his boots, calling over his shoulder as he rushes down the stairs, “Get dressed!”

“No duh! As if I would meet your captor in my freaking bathrobe!”

When Keith makes it to the front yard, the door of the ship opens with a low hiss. By the model, Keith can tell it’s one of Kolvian’s fastest ships, which means not only does a Senator of Daibazaal know he’s here, he needed Acxa to get here as fast as possible.

Across the field, some of Lance’s family members run out of the house in their pajamas and huddled under an oversized umbrella. 

The first person out of the ship is Veronica still in her Garrison suit, looking exhausted.

“Vero, what the heck?” Luis calls, motioning to the ship. Nadia and Silvio creep past their father toward the ship looking ready to burst from excitement. “You said you weren’t coming back for another week!”

“Lancey is gonna kill you for landing your ship on his breakup flowers,” Rachel notes as their parents jog out, both in robes and slippers.

“Verónica, what is the meaning of this?” Lance’s father demands, looking very confused by the spaceship on his front lawn. 

“Guys, get back in the house!” Veronica orders and Acxa strolls out casually behind her, hair twisted back in double-Dutch braids with oversized sunglasses covering her eyes. She inspects the field from the ramp of their ship, drops of rain sticking to the lens.

On her hip is a heavy-duty looking blaster, and Keith feels his spine go straight, adrenaline pumping as his fight-or-flight response kicks in, triggering a sudden urge to bolt.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. McClain," she greets with a small wave. "I won't be long."

"Take your time, dear," Lance's mother replies. "It's always nice to see you!"

"Wow. You showed her, Mamà." Luis rolls his eyes, and his mother hip checks him.

"Quiet! She is a nice girl and makes Verónica happy."

The McClains then go back to bickering, speaking over one another with demands for each other to _cálmate_ and other Spanish phrases Keith barely recognizes. Although at some point, he hears Nadia request to use Acxa's blaster. 

Veronica spots Keith on Lance’s front porch. “Keith, I’m so sorry!”

Acxa silently eyes him from over her sunglasses. Veronica reaches for her hand. “ _Mi corazón, mi alma._..please, can we talk this through?”

She removes Acxa’s sunglasses, looking up at her girlfriend in a silent plea. 

“Go inside with your family or you’ll catch a cold.” Acxa squeezes Veronica’s hand tightly, before bringing Veronica’s knuckles up to her lips to kiss them softly. “I’ll be done soon.”

Acxa drops her hand and watches as Veronica gathers her family to usher them inside from the rain. She turns back to Keith, hand on her blaster.

“Keith Kogane, you have hereby been summoned by the high court of New Daibazaal for questioning by the dual Senators.”

"And if I refuse?" 

"I'll have no choice but to issue this summons via injection."

They stare at each other, the rain pouring harder. Keith grits his teeth. "Acxa, you don't have to do this. These are just petty politics, you know that."

"Daibazaal is my home," she argues. "And your mother trusts me to bring you back. This doesn't need to be difficult if you accept the summons."

When Keith doesn't reply, Acxa calls again, louder.

"Keith, do you accept the summons?"

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, allowing the fresh air and the scent of wet Earth to fill his lungs. He imagines the ocean he passes on his daily run, with water so blue and clear it reminds him of the eyes that greet him in the morning and wish him goodnight before bed. 

He thinks of Lance as they cook together in his dream kitchen and take calls from their friends in their comfortable living room. The medium size dog door that wasn't part of his original blueprints, but he added for Kosmo even though he could teleport. In the few weeks they’ve been living together, Lance has helped him to open up, to realize he is loved and has a place with the McClain family.

He thinks of Shiro, Pidge and the rest of the Garrison crew who he's seen more of these past few weeks than he has in the last few years. 

He thinks of Earth and feels at home.

He knows his answer.

"No," he shouts back. "I refuse the summons. Daibazaal may be your home, but it’s not mine. My home is here, on Earth. I won’t give it up!"

"Then I'm sorry, Keith," Acxa replies, looking pained but not surprised. "You leave me no other choice."

She shoots off the ramp like a bat out of hell and Keith sprints away from the house _._

It occurs to him too late that in his haste to leave the house, he’s left behind his knife and no longer has the luxury of carrying his bayard. Unarmed and outgunned, he races as fast as his legs can carry him with the hope of shaking Acxa off his trail long enough to escape to his ship.

He runs through the maze of flowers and around the winding husks of corn, Kosmo at his heels. The sky rumbles, heavy rain bouncing off the crops. The storm smothers the sun, greying the world around them. Drops of rain beat against his skin like hammers, drenching his clothes and hair. He looks over his shoulder, and Acxa is hot on his trail, the rain nothing but a mild inconvenience for her.

Keith extends his hand to his wolf. "Kosmo!"

Not needing to be told twice, the wolf zaps them away as Acxa’s blaster goes off. When they land, Keith’s boots skid on the muddy grass. He looks around to see they're in front of Lance's house again.

“Why you’d bring us back here?” Keith asks, but his attention is captured by a sad whining sound. “Kosmo?”

The wolf limps beside him, and Keith takes his giant paw to see a dart sticking out of his leg. Whining louder, Kosmo tries to teleport but fails. Around them, static zaps at Keith’s feet. Kosmo’s whines grow louder.

“It’s okay, boy. I got you,” Keith tries to comfort, slowly pulling the dart out while searching for where Acxa could be lurking. The wolf cries louder when the dart is removed, nuzzling into Keith’s chest. “Shush, it’s okay. I’m here.”

The wolf’s whines subside, and Keith swallows nervously. There’s no way he can escape with a giant, injured space wolf. Turning to the house, he shouts desperately, “Lance!”

He hears rustling in the field as Acxa makes her way toward them. Pulling Kosmo to his feet and trying to get him inside is fruitless. Kosmo wobbles, losing consciousness in Keith’s arms. He taps his furry muzzle to keep him awake. “No no no, stay with me.”

“It’s just a tranquilizer,” clarifies Acxa as she exits the field and draws nearer, blaster at the ready. “He’ll be fine in a few vargas, but he won’t be taking you anywhere.”

Keith huffs, letting Kosmo rest on the wooden porch of Lance’s house. Darting off the steps, he attempts to charge at her, but the rain has transformed the dirt into mud and he quickly loses his footing. 

Acxa charges her blaster, and Keith recognizes its set on _stun_ and not kill. In the back of his mind, he’s slightly thankful his friend hasn’t done a complete heel-turn on him. But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s out of options—he closes his eyes waiting for the shot.

He _does_ hear a shot, but it’s not from Acxa.

The bullet hits the ground by Acxa’s feet, sending mud flying and stopping her in her tracks. Keith turns back to the house and looks up to see Lance positioned at the crest of the awning, sniper rifle in hand.

“Hey Acxie,” he greets, eye still in the viewfinder. “I’m gonna have to kindly ask you to step away from my boyfriend and his space wolf.”

“Lance!” Keith exclaims before his mood turns sour. “Took you long enough!”

“Give me a break, it’s been a while! I had to find my gun!”

“I told you to leave it in the safe!”

“And I told you I can never remember the combo!”

“Nope,” Acxa laments, adjusting the settings on her gun. “I am not listening to this lover's quarrel.”

Before Keith can squawk in objection, Acxa spins and shoots a lasso from the barrel of her blaster. It tangles around Lance’s wrists tightly, locking him in place. With a tug, Lance screeches as she drags him off the awning and face-first into the mud. He lands next to Keith with a heavy thud.

“Lance!” Keith crawls to his side, watching in horror. He looks him over for any signs of injury before helping him up, gingerly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Lance groans, shaking his head. “The mud broke my fall.”

Keith sighs in relief. “That and your thick skull.”

“You know it,” Lance assures him, smiling back at him.

“I hate this,” Acxa groans, sloshing forward in the mud and grabbing Keith’s right arm. Lance scrambles for his rifle, but she kicks it out of his reach. Keith struggles in her hold.

“Let go of him!” Lance demands, but Acxa boots him away with another swipe of her foot. The setting on her blaster switches again, and this time it’s a brand with angry, purple heat. She smashes it against the soft skin of Keith’s forearm, ripping a scream from his lungs. “Keith!”

The pain isn't as sharp as needlepoints or a knife, but it burns under his skin like boiling water. Then, in an instant, it vanishes. Leaving a cool tingle in its wake. When Keith looks down at his arm, he sees the etchings of a circle with three lines of Galran script over a timer. The language is still new to him, but even with his elementary understanding, he can make out the words.

_Keith Kogane_

_Summoned to New Daibazaal_

_For the crime of desertion_

“I hereby issue you the brand of the state,” Acxa says, releasing his arm. “You have one spicolian movement to appear in front of the grand council to state your case.”

She returns her blaster to her hip and turns to go back to her ship. Before leaving she glances over her shoulder. “And if you really want Earth to be your home, I think you have a strong one.”

*

Freshly showered, Keith settles comfortably on the daybed in the guest bedroom, listening to the pattering of rain as Kosmo snores on his chest. It’s been hours since Acxa left, and given the fact Veronica did not follow her, it seems the new couple definitely exchanged some words on the harshness of Keith’s punishment.

It makes Keith feel a little guilty to come between them like that. Lance brushed him off while tending to the bruises from their squirmish.

“They’ll figure it out,” he promised.

“How are you so sure?”

Lance hesitated, before replying, “Because they love each other.”

To Keith, it seems a little quick to be throwing the L-word around, but what does he know?

On his chest, Kosmo stirs and lets out a tiny growl. Keith runs his hands through his fur—no doubt he is dreaming about chasing squirrels around the farm grounds. He’s starting to drift off himself when the door to the room opens with a creak. Keith blinks his eyes open, watching as Lance walks into the room with a torn expression on his face. By the glistening glow of his skin, he's just gotten out of the shower.

“Hey,” he whispers, seeing the display on the bed. “How’s our boy doing?”

“Shh,” Keith hisses, using his free hand to hold a finger to his lips. “He woke up and got all whiney because he couldn’t move. I just got him back down to sleep the rest of the tranquilizer off.”

Lance nods in understanding, creeping quietly closer and squinting at Kosmo’s sleeping form. As if sensing the scrutiny, the wolf shifts around in his sleep, turning and burying his snout into the curve of Keith’s armpit. 

“He looks kinda cute when he’s unconscious,” Lance concludes, taking a seat at the other end of the mattress. “Y’know, for a menacing space wolf that can chomp through fighter jets.”

Keith gives a non-committal hum, petting the soft parts of Kosmo’s ears. “How’s your wrist?”

“It’s just a sprain, but Luis is gonna cover for me in the fields until it heals.” Lance waves his left wrist that’s tied up in an ace-bandage. He then turns to Keith fully with a tight frown. “Are we still not going to talk about the literal dooms-day clock on your arm?”

Keith lets out an exhausted sigh. “Lance.”

“I’m just asking because I want to know _when_ will be a good time to talk about this?”

“If I say never, will you leave me alone?”

“Keith,” Lance tries again, his voice full of genuine hurt. He reaches out to curl his hand around his ankle, the only limb accessible while Keith’s holding an armful of space wolf. 

With a sigh, Keith finally relents. “The summons is a tradition from ten-thousand years ago, before even Zarkon was Emperor. I only know about it because the Blades would sometimes use it on members who may have been compromised during their missions.”

“How does it work?”

“It charges you with your crime,” he explains, extending his arm out for Lance to see the brand again. “If you don’t accept the verbal summons, it’s literally injected into your arm and the ink mixes with some hormone that’s only found in people with Galra blood.”

Lance runs his finger against Keith’s skin, sending a shiver down his spine. “What happens when the clock runs out?”

“I’ve never seen it happen before, but I think it triggers some kind of scent that signals to other Galra that you’ve been exiled. If you aren’t killed by a Bounty Hunter, then your entire family will disown you.”

“Geezus.” Lance shakes his head. “And the only way to avoid that is going in front of your Council of Furries?”

Keith doesn’t have the energy to correct Lance’s exaggeration, and at this point he’s probably just doing it to get a rise out of Keith. “If they find me innocent, the council will remove the brand.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

“Not really.”

That seems to be answer enough for Lance, who quietly holds Keith’s arm, touching the soft parts of skin displaying the literal ticking clock. His calluses are rough against the still sensitive skin. Eventually, Keith pulls away, snuggling closer to Kosmo and leaving enough space on the day bed for Lance to climb up next to his side. Luckily, Lance is quick on the uptake and soon he’s curled around Keith, spooning him tenderly. 

He’s just about to doze off in Kosmo’s fur when a thought occurs to him.

“Lance?”

“Hmm?” Lance hums, running his fingers through Keith’s hair. His blunt nails scratch his scalp, making sleep that much more tempting. 

“Are we boyfriends?”

Keith adjusts himself slightly, so he can meet Lance’s gaze from the short distance between them on the pillow. He holds it, even as the blush rises to Lance’s cheeks and uncertainty flashes in his eyes. Lance shifts closer, brushing their noses together.

“I guess I did kind of spring that on you before,” he confesses, voice a little shaky. “I mean...we live together, we make out sometimes, we’ve...y’know.”

“Had sex?”

Lance groans. "You can at least try to be more romantic, you know.”

“We had sex, _darling_?” he attempts and Lance flicks his nose playfully. Keith holds back a smile. “What? I thought you’d like pet names.”

“I do, but I’m being serious here.”

Keith reaches up, cupping Lance’s face between his hands and runs his thumbs along those beautiful azure marks on his skin, peering into those gorgeous cobalt eyes.

“Lance, I love you,” he says with as much certainty as he can. His hands travel down Lance’s neck, past his pulse point, and finally land on his chest where he feels his steady heartbeat. “This situation is a mess, and I’m still a bit of a mess, but if there’s one thing I am dead-sure of, it’s how much I love you. I don’t care what you call me—mullet, team leader, roommate, boyfriend—whatever. That’s never changed how I've ever felt about you.”

Lance’s breath hitches as he swallows, but Keith catches the sob that escapes his lips. Keith kisses the line of his chin gingerly, a small reassurance that he’s here. He feels Lance’s arms tighten around him, and looks back up.

“I love you, too,” Lance breathes against his lips, kissing him softly. Then it hits him. “Wait...never changed how you felt? That means you've felt it for a while.”

He speaks slowly as realization sets-in, and Keith hesitates, stiffening in his arms.

“How long have you been in love with me?” Lance asks before he’s kissing him again. It helps Keith relax, but it makes it harder to answer the question. It does give him time to think through his answer.

“Too long to say for sure,” he finally admits. “Maybe it started as a little flicker when we were paladins and you wouldn’t get off my back for months. Then it just got stronger over time until eventually it was just a part of how I felt about you.” Keith stops to bite his lip, never feeling this exposed before. He isn’t used to being this vulnerable. “I never thought you’d feel the same.”

Keith is blatantly aware of Lance’s eyes on him, just silently staring at him with a hint of hurt. 

“Is this about Allura?”

“No,” Keith says, and he’s being truthful. “Maybe at one point, but not anymore. I never wanted to make you choose, and I loved Allura like a sister. To be honest, I don’t think I really understood what I felt for you was love until the war was over. After I left Earth.”

“When you left for Daibazaal full-time, I missed you a stupid amount,” Lance says, quietly. “It reminded me of when you first left the team to join Kolvian, and how scared I got when you came back from that mission with your mom looking older.”

“I believe the term you used was _grizzled_ , Lance.”

“You lived on a space whale for two years in a hut you made with a wolf. It was an appropriate term.”

Keith gives a noncommittal noise, hearing said wolf snoring lightly as he slept. Lance takes it as a sign to keep going.

“It got me wondering if I could even _like_ guys like that. When I spoke to Shiro about it, I think he sensed I had a little crush on you back when we were just paladins together.”

“Did he give you that face when he’s trying to pretend he’s surprised, but he’s not at all?”

"Yes,” he whines. “How does he always know?”

“It’s either some kind of gaydar or we’re just really bad at this.”

“We’re getting better.” Lance smiles, and presses a kiss to Keith’s forehead. “Thank you for telling me this, though. I love seeing you get all blushy and red.”

“Ugh, shut up,” Keith grumbles, but there’s no bite there. “Anyway, not like it matters. In a few days, I’ll be persona non grata according to the Galaxy Alliance.”

“Don’t convince yourself that you don’t deserve happiness. Trust me, that gets you nowhere fast,” Lance tells him stubbornly while adjusting his long body on the bed. He manages to tangle their legs together in a position that’s slightly more comfortable. “We’ve faced worse problems before than an ugly tattoo and some nationalist aliens.”

Lance leans back into the pillows he’s stacked against the daybed, stretching his arms high above his head and yawning. Soon after, Keith mimics him, and it’s enough to make Lance laugh.

“Get some sleep, Keith. This problem will still be here for us to stress about in a few hours.”

For the first time in his life, Keith falls asleep the very second his eyes shut.

* * *

Lance is right, the problem is still there when he’s woken up by Kosmo covering his face with slobbery drool. 

It’s dark outside, but Kosmo is a never-ending ball of energy now that the tranquilizers have worn off. He’s practically bouncing around the room, his tail threatening to knock over the furniture.

“I'm happy you're okay, but go burn all this off,” Keith instructions him with fond exasperation, giving the space wolf a few lingering scratches between his ears.

Kosmo zaps off quickly—most likely appearing out in the field to bother the other animals. 

Keith looks over his shoulder at Lance, who’s sitting up against the wall, fidgeting with the fringe of one of the day bed's throw pillows. Keith gets to his feet and stretches his body out, joints popping and bones shifting back into place from the position he slept in squished between Kosmo and Lance. He takes a few steps out of the room to check the time on the clock in the hallway and sighs.

“What should we do for dinner?”

Lance turns to him, dead-serious, and says, “We should get married.”

Keith’s eyes widen, turning fully to Lance in shock.

“We should _what?_ ” Keith’s voice cracks on the question, going particularly high. He watches as Lance calmly gets up from his seat, strolling around the daybed to adjust the pillows that have fallen off.

“Get married,” Lance repeats as if he’s telling Keith the weather and not proposing to him in the middle of the guest bedroom. Keith inspects Lance's face, looking for any sign he's joking or completely lost his mind. Instead, he's met with calm reassurance. 

"You're serious."

Lance throws him a glance over his shoulder. "Why would I joke about marrying you?"

"I dunno, because we just agreed to be boyfriends a few hours ago?" Keith argues, stomping back into the room. Lance takes a seat on the mattress, having the gall to look amused. "Stop laughing!"

"I'm not," he defends, trying to hold back his snickering. "But you gotta admit, we've kinda been dating this whole summer. We were just too chicken to admit it."

Keith crosses his arms over his chest. "Why do you want to marry me?"

Lance reaches out toward him and untangles his arms, intertwining their fingers together, and tugging him so he's standing over where Lance sits on the bed. The fabric of his ace bandage brushes against Keith’s palm, and the marks under his eyes twinkle.

"Because I love you," Lance says, simply. Easily. Like the phrase itself isn't turning all of Keith's bones into molten metal under his skin. "You're one of my best friends, and every day I wake up next to you, I know it’s going to be a great day because you're here. You're kind, compassionate and fiercely stubborn, especially on the most mundane shit like how we put the mugs away."

Keith frowns. "It's not weird to put the mugs faced down, Lance. It keeps dust from getting inside, and if you lived in the desert for as long as I did, you'd appreciate my insight."

"And you're bossy," Lance continues, kissing each of Keith's knuckles with another compliment. "And hot-headed, but you're selfless, too. Way more selfless than I am." He pauses, looking up at him through his lashes. "That's why I want to marry you. I don't want to give you up. I want you to be mine forever, and live in this house with me and grow old together. I want to live my life with you—I think I can show you what it's like to have a home worth coming back to."

Lance's eyes are shining now, unshed tears turning his blue irises into the shallow waves of the ocean. The eyes that have pulled Keith into a riptide, tumbling him head over heart since he was the hotshot pilot of the Red Lion. 

"Me having a husband on Earth would make a stronger case to the council than just a boyfriend," Keith adds, leaning down to brush his lips against Lance's. He feels a mischievous grin spread against his lips.

"Now you're picking up what I'm putting down."

"I guess it makes sense," Keith smirks, his words more teasing than anything else. "We already share an address, and you're my emergency contact on all the forms the Garrison customs made me sign when I put in for my extended stay here."

“Aw, babe! I’m your emergency contact?”

“Lance, you just asked to marry me.”

“Still.”

"Is this for real though? Us. Married. Until death and all that?" Keith finds himself asking, tempted to kiss Lance properly. He feels frustrated by the teasing. He’s been wanting this so badly for so long. But he also wants to wait for it, until they’re clear and he knows what all of this means for them. He doesn’t want to kiss Lance now if this is only a stunt to try and save him.

"I'm in if you are," Lance says with so much confidence and trust. "I spent years trying to keep myself from admitting what I actually wanted in life. I would mold myself to fit what I thought other people needed me to be, and then wonder why I didn't feel like I belonged. Once I let that go and took some excellent advice about embracing the dumb Earth version of myself, my life got a lot clearer. It was easier to see what I wanted—to live on Earth, to build a house, and to have my best friend back in my life."

He gives Keith’s hand a gentle squeeze and lets out a shaky breath. It’s endearing how much he’s trying to play it cool for Keith’s sake, but is quietly freaking out. It’s a real proposal, albeit a quick one. 

"I want you, Keith. Forever, if you'll have me?"

“Yeah.” Keith beams, years of pent up emotions about the man in front of him bubbling to the surface, like molten lava breaking through the Earth’s crust and spewing out in a volcanic eruption. His eyes tingle with tears, and he’s not sure if he can stop them. “Let’s do it. Let’s get married.”

“Oh my god, I’m so happy you said yes,” Lance chokes out, and now he’s crying too, but it isn’t sad. It’s happy tears, wet and shining as they streak down his cheeks. “I was running out of lines to woo you.”

“Consider me thoroughly wooed.” Keith laughs, and Lance lets go of his hands to hold his face, keeping him still as he peppers him with kisses. 

Then he captures his lips, and it’s enough to turn Keith’s knees to jelly. It’s wet from their tears and messy from their uncoordinated efforts, but it’s perfect. Kissing Lance feels like the first time Keith flew at the Garrison, with a hint of danger from when he piloted Red, but with the stability of forming Voltron. Being with Lance is like a final puzzle piece in his heart sliding into place. 

When he pulls back, a smirk is stretched across his lips when he sees that Lance’s are bitten red. Amusement showing plain across his features, practically giddy with how happy he feels. Lance wraps his arms around Keith’s neck, leaning in for another kiss. 

Instead, Keith hoists him up, carrying him like he weighs less than a bag of potatoes.

He screeches, and Keith can’t help but chuckle when long legs wrap around his midsection, clinging tightly. He takes a handful of Lance’s ass in his palms, hoisting him up. “Keith!”

“As my first act as a fiancé, I would like to _thoroughly woo_ my betrothed,” he jokes, carrying Lance to their bedroom. “And not on the daybed. It’s cramped.”

“But your brand!”

“I have a spicolian movement to figure it out.” Keith closes their bedroom door with his foot. “And I’m taking my time.”

*

“We should elope,” Keith says the next morning over breakfast as Lance pours them both coffee. His curls are still sticking up in every direction in adorable sex hair. “If we make a big deal about this, people will start asking questions.”

“Agreed,” Lance nods, handing him a mug. “Also if we tell my parents, Veronica finds out which means Acxa finds out which means your mother finds out.”

The game of telephone seems like common knowledge for Lance’s family, which isn't that surprising considering how fast word travels in their sleepy village. Through the doggy door, Kosmo enters with a yawn, nuzzles Lance’s hand before searching for the food that Keith left out for him. 

“We should get someone from the Alliance to officiate us, too,” Keith adds, taking a sip of his rich, black coffee. “Is Shiro too obvious?”

Lance adds milk and extra sugar to his coffee, stirring it thoughtfully when an idea occurs to him. He slaps his forehead so hard it makes Keith wince.

“Oh duh, why didn’t I think of it sooner?”

He takes his mug and rushes to the study so fast his blue robe whisks behind him like a cape. Keith cranes his neck to watch him leave.

“Think of what sooner?” Keith calls, but Lance has already whipped out his cellphone and begun dialing numbers. 

“No time to chat, just trust me on this,” he replies but hesitates in the doorway. “Make sure your ship is fueled up and pack some nice clothes.”

Lance slams the door behind him, and Keith looks down at his boxers and a wrinkled t-shirt.

“I guess this is my life now.”

Kosmo slurps loudly from his water bowl in response.


	7. Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She smiles brightly, more than Keith has ever seen. It's a pure, excited, happy smile that makes her marks crinkle at the corner of her eyes. She looks as old as she should be if there wasn't a war to fight or a universe to be saved. She's just a young woman excited that her friends are getting married. Allura's joyous laughter echoes through the speakers, enveloping them in the love and warmth she always supported them with.
> 
> "I love you both so much!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is safely social distancing, washing their hands, and keeping themselves busy. Enjoy this chapter!

Lance’s plan is simple — they are going to ask Coran to officiate them.

As Prime Minister of Altea, he’s one of the most loyal statesmen of the Galaxy Alliance. Not to mention, one of their oldest friends. 

Positioning it as a casual check-in trip, Lance negotiates for his family to housesit and take care of Kosmo while they’re gone. Although Keith is a bit glum without the space wolf by his side, he does it for the good of the ruse. It’s such a boring cover story not even Veronica asks why they’re making the trip. It’s a surprisingly brilliant plan, coming from Lance.

Lance hugs his mother and Luis goodbye and climbs up the ramp. Keith adjusts the bag on his shoulder and extends his hand out for Mrs. McClain to shake. She huffs, taking his hand and pulling Keith into a warm hug.

"Stop being so formal, Keith. You're part of the family," Mrs. McClain scolds, face pressed against his chest.

Keith hesitates a moment before he wraps his arms around her. He feels a little guilty about lying to her and the rest of Lance's family, but Lance is whisking him away before he can even think of opening his mouth. 

The ramp retracts when the door locks behind them. Keith stores his bag and makes his way up to the pilot's chair while Lance secures his bags. He powers up the small ship, flipping switches and wrapping his hands around the controls.

It's been weeks since he's flown, but there's something innate about piloting a ship. It still gives him a small thrill, but it dulls in comparison to how he suddenly feels about leaving the farm.

“Are we good out there?” Keith asks from the pilot’s chair, setting the ship’s system to Altea’s coordinates. Lance flops in the co-pilot's seat. 

“Yup,” he says, buckling up. “Turns out Veronica left this morning.”

“Are her and Axca still fighting?”

Lance shrugs. Then adds with a nervous laugh, “Beats me, but it means she’s probably too distracted to notice that we’re eloping.”

He smiles softly at Lance, squeezing his hand securely. 

Once the ship’s systems are set and ready, his ship sails up and over the Caribbean Sea, through the teleduv and is transported away from Earth. There’s a burst of light before they break through the bright skies of Altea. They fly over the juniberry fields, and lush greenery before approaching the New Castle of Lions, which acts as the planet’s Parliament House.

They’re greeted by the attendees of the teleduv, mostly security and whatever the Altean version of traffic control is. Keith covers his arm with his jacket, keeping it out of view. Once they’re cleared, the ship docks and they’re greeted by Romelle who embraces them both tightly when they exit.

“It’s always so great to see you,” she smiles, then looks around. “Wait, someone is missing. Where’s Kosmo?”

“He’s a little sick, so he’s staying on Lance’s farm,” Keith explains. It’s not a full-lie, but it’s not the full truth either. Lance, ever the conversationalist, manages to swerve the topic toward Altea. 

Apparently, the planet has changed a lot since he was there full-time. Romelle points out monuments and buildings that have gone up in the last few decaphobes. Soon, market stalls line the route as they approach the castle’s gates. Keith pauses for a moment to survey the flamboyant scene and observe the milling throngs of people.

Groups of young people shop, whilst others hustle and bustle about the market. He sees aliens of all kinds haggling over the price of exotic fruits and other imported merchandise with vendors of various species. A father with a baby in a carriage casually browses gems displayed in glass cases. That’s the stall that seems to pique Lance’s interest.

“Romelle, we’ll meet you inside,” he says, grabbing Keith by the hand and dragging him down a stone path. Romelle huffs a complaint behind them before heading through the castle’s gates.

They end up back by the booth with the gems just as the father walks away. The merchant is a tall woman with horns like a goat that braid around her head. Her sclera is yellow with purple pupils. The lavender hue of her fur suggests she could be part-Galra, but she doesn't seem to recognize Keith.

“Sorry gentlemen, the shop's closed for the quintant.”

“Even for me?”

She turns around ready to argue, but when she sees Lance her irritation melts into surprise. “Lance! Is that you?”

“In the flesh!” Lance extends his arms out and hugs the woman. “Long time no see, Gwarley.”

“The name’s Gwar, and don’t you start getting cute on me,” Gwar laughs, giving his arm a playful punch. “Did your twin like the bracelet for her birthday?”

“I thought you guys didn’t exchange gifts?” Keith asks and Lance shrugs.

“She likes shiny things, so I had Gwar send me a gift anyway for Rach.”

His words gain Gwar's attention and she reaches her hand out to Keith. “Wow, I am so rude. Let me introduce myself, I’m Gwar. I’m a blacksmith and a jeweler.”

“She’s being modest, Gwar is the best of the best,” Lance explains, motioning to the gems in her stall. “Seriously, her jewels are on half the royal crests in the seventh quadrant. She even mines them herself across the galaxy!”

Gwar leans back, hand on her hip. “Flattery will get you everywhere, McClain. I was gonna pack up, but I’ll give you two some extended hours. What’re you looking for?”

His smile is one of happiness and growing like the petals of a summer dahlia blooming. Keith can tell it comes from deep inside, his marks shimmering to light his eyes and a blush spreads on his cheeks. Lance always smiles with more than his mouth — it’s in his voice.

“Wedding bands,” he announces, holding up the hand he holds with Keith. “We’re getting married today.” 

Keith’s heart races, excitement making his chest feel full. It’s one thing for Lance to ask him to marry him in their bedroom, framing it alongside a harebrained plan. It’s another to happily announce it in public. A look of glee flashes across Gwar’s face, and she asks them to wait as she hurries behind her booth to show them a sample of her wares. 

Lance squeezes his hand, and he turns to find Lance gazing at him with a shy little smile, bemused like he can’t believe what they are doing either. 

It’s scary how much he wants this.

When Gwar returns, in her hand is a small box. “These are some of my favorite rings. Welded from gemstones I’ve gathered from across the Belnars System. They give off an aura based on the one the wearer loves most. Here, try them on. I think I got your sizes right by eye.”

They both reach out and grab a ring. Each ring is a silver band with a line of gemstones inset in the middle. Keith slips it on his finger and gasps when the middle glows in the brightest shade of blue he’s ever seen. It’s like when the ocean meets the sky on a clear day. Slightly nervous, he eyes Lance’s hand and sees a warm red hue fill the middle of his ring. Tears well in the corner of Lance’s eyes as he inspects the rings, and it’s clear how much he wants this too.

Their sappy behavior must be nauseating as Gwar demands they take the rings as a wedding gift, free of charge. She packages them together in a small, velvet box that she gives Keith. They’re so beautiful that Lance throws the biggest fit, demanding to give Gwar something as compensation, but the woman refuses and threatens to cut his hands off he if doesn’t just take the damn rings. The threat is enough to make him accept the gift.

Before they leave to meet Romelle at the castle, Keith throws a question to Gwar over his shoulder. “What’s the band made of? The metal is beautiful.”

Gwar smiles, a snaggle-tooth peeking out from her lips. “It’s an ore called  _ mollitiam  _ \- the most resilient this part of the galaxy. You can only find it on Daibazaal.” 

*

When they explain the situation to Coran in his office, he's full of nothing but giddy smiles and excitable planning.

“A marriage signifies a strong bond to your home planet, and I agree that having it officiated by someone from the Alliance is quite clever.”

Keith’s shoulders relax, an easy smile coming to his face. “Thank you, Coran. This means a lot.”

“Nothing to it.” Coran twirls his mustache around his finger in thought. "However, if you are serious about this marriage, I suppose it's time I show you two something."

“We really don’t have time for detours.” Keith huffs, now beginning to feel annoyed again. “Can’t you just marry us in your office?”

“It’ll just take a moment!”

He ushers them through the halls of the castle, passing members of Altean Parliament and staffers along the way. 

"Here we are," Coran announces, opening the double-doors to what appears to be a library full of experiments, books, and artifacts from the original Castle of Lions. "This is the room where I keep what remains of Alfor and Allura's belongings."

Contrary to what Keith would assume, the room is bright and airy. On the walls are paintings of the royal family, including the blueprints for what later became Allura's memorial statue. When they pass the glass case holding the familiar pink uniform and bayard, Keith freezes. 

"Allura," he whispers.

Unlike the reproductions made for the Altean Museum, Allura's armor retains every scrape and scratch she endured during countless battles. The thumbs of the gloves still frayed from her nervous habit of picking her fingers while she thought. Just seeing it again gives Keith the feeling that she is just down the hall, chatting pleasantly with Romelle, and about to swing back to grab them any moment.

The thought manages to bring him both comfort and sadness.

Coran joins them in front of the case. "Although you returned her helmet to me after the battle, the Blue Lion had kept her suit after she -" He loses the words in his throat. Lance rests a supportive hand on his shoulder, and Coran gives it a hefty pat. "Regardless, it seemed like the best thing I could do given the circumstances."

"I think you did good, Coran," Keith says, and Lance nods. 

"Me too." Then, slowly, a knowing smile spreads across Lance’s face. "You know she'd be mortified and furious if she saw this, though, right?"

Coran grins, the lines around his eyes deepening as he wiped a few stray tears away. "Oh yes, she would absolutely hate this pompous display of her heroism."

They laugh together, louder than deemed necessary by the joke. It was more to dispel the grief threatening to take hold than anything else. 

"Let's keep going, gentlemen," Coran urges, pushing them forward. "There is a reason for our visit."

"If we see this reason, will you marry us already?" Lance asks, gesturing wildly. "Keith has a literal ticking clock situation here!"

“We can wait a little longer,” Keith offers, looking back at the display case. He squeezes hard when Lance grabs his hand. 

“Keith, we don’t need to do anything if you’re not comfortable,” Lance urges, staring back at Keith with an earnest smile just for him. “I know I make a big deal out of things, but if this is too much we can call Shiro or something.”

“Lance, I’m okay.”

“It's okay if you’re not, though,” Lance tells him anyway. “We lost our friend. It’s never going to be okay, but I need you to know that I love you and that’s why I’m marrying you.” He motions to the brand on Keith’s arm. “Even if we are doing it a bit earlier than expected, I’m not going anywhere.”

Keith smiles at him, bright and unyielding, as he cups his face between his hands. He kisses him softly. “Me neither.”

Coran pushes back a curtain and reveals a screen mounted to the wall with a few chairs set in front of it. When he makes the universal sign to take a seat, they obey. Keith watches as Coran places his palm on the datapad mounted on the wall beside the television, and a row of disks appear from the wall in a filing system. Carefully, he goes through each one and smiles widely in delight when he finds whatever he’s searching for. He slides a disk from where it’s nestled with the others. 

"Before the battle with Zarkon, where we lost Shiro, Allura asked me to help her record a few messages in case she didn't survive," he explains, inserting the disk into a player in the wall. "I'd forgotten about them until we lost the castleship. But I’ve managed to keep them safe all these years."

Keith can't help himself. "How many did she record?"

"I’ve never counted, to be honest, but there are plenty here. We had researched as many Earth holidays and celebrations as we could to record a greeting. Although, we were perplexed about what to do about Arbor Day," Coran says, peering over the names of the files. "I promised her I wouldn't share them with you all until the time came. She has all sorts of occasions she recorded for you five, but this was the one she added to the list herself.”

Wordlessly, Keith extends his hand to Lance, who threads their fingers together tight.

Coran presses a button, and the screen begins to play a message. It's an empty chair at first, but then from off-screen, there's the ringing of a familiar voice.

"Honesty, Coran, Earth does have too many celebrations. For ancient's sake, what even is a Hallo-ween?"

When Allura appears on the screen, it's like seeing her ghost. She's in the Altean dress that had long been stuffed in her closet by the time Keith returned to the team. Silver strands of her curly hair hang loose, as opposed to the bun she had worn near-constantly at the end of the war. Across her forehead is her tiara. It sparkles magnificently in the light from the Castle of Lions. 

The image makes his heart sink into his stomach. Even though everything had been Allura's choice, and she saved the universe with her unbelievable power, it doesn't change the fact that he misses her immensely.

He doesn't realize he's getting teary-eyed until Lance squeezes his hand softly. It’s a check-in to see if he's alright. Keith squeezes back.

She's scrolling through an Altean holo-pad, obviously unaware the camera is still recording her. When the blinking light catches her attention, she puffs a stray curl away from her face. "Coran! Why is this still recording? I thought we finished."

"Still one more to do, Princess!" Coran's voice carries over the camera. Shortly after, Coran comes into view to point at something on the holo-pad. 

While Keith's always thought of Coran as old, the man has aged so much since this recording. It isn't until he sees the comparison side-by-side that he notices how much losing Allura has drained him. He extends his free hand to him, and Coran takes it and holds it tightly.

When it occurs to Allura what she'll be recording, her face twists into an amused grin. "Oh, this is going to be fun!"

"Why is she so happy?" Lance asks, skepticism evident in his voice. "Is she going to tell us about some kind of Altean tradition where we'll need to eat hot coals before you marry us?"

Keith shushes him, shooting him a fiery glare. Lance, ever the mature one, responds by sticking his tongue out.

"Lance and Keith," Allura's voice rings through the speakers with the same warmth and slight exasperation she had held when chiding them about their bickering. It’s so familiar, Keith feels himself sit up straighter on instinct. Then she claps her hands together with a wide smile. "Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials!" 

"What?!" they shriek in unison, turning to Coran and pointing at the screen. "How did she know?"

Coran hits pause on the video, resting his chin on his fist. "It was very clear from just how contentious you both were that you were partaking in some sort of Earth courting ritual."

"Courting?" Keith scoffs, pointing at Lance. "You think Lance ribbing me back then for breathing anywhere near him was him courting me?"

"Well, yes," Coran shrugs. "What else was it supposed to be?"

"It was the flames of a deep-seated rivalry, Coran!" Lance argues, too loudly to be even the least bit believable. "I wasn't courting Keith, I was challenging him!"

"I mean, maybe you were courting me," Keith says with a grin. "When you threatened to stick me in a wormhole, was that flirting?"

Lance huffs, but still can't hide just how smitten he looks. "I should stick you in a wormhole now and save myself a lifetime of trouble."

"That a promise or a threat?"

Coran clears his throat loudly, turning back to the screen. "May we continue?"

They break apart with a blush, nodding in agreement. Coran continues the message. Allura picks up where she left off.

"I suppose I owe Shiro 100 GAC for winning the bet," she hums, tapping her bottom lip with her index finger. Then pauses, eyes sad. "Although, if you're watching this, I suppose I'm no longer around to pay such a gamble."

Allura sighs, shoulders dropping for a moment before she leans her head around to the camera. "Coran, make sure Shiro receives his 100 GAC."

"Of course, Princess," Coran's voice comes from off-screen, and Keith can see him mouthing the same words besides him.

"A lot must have happened between you two for you to arrive at this day," Allura considers, beaming at the camera. "This doesn't surprise me though, you two are good together. I saw it every time you formed Voltron — you’re each your best self when you're together." She wrinkles her nose. "And a bit insufferable when you're apart." 

Lance presses a kiss to Keith’s temple and lets his lips linger there. Keith smiles, squeezing Lance's hand again.

"I'm sorry I can't be with you both, but it makes me happy to know that you're together," she says, and there isn't an ounce of regret or sadness in her words. "Continue to take care of each other."

Even though she's gone, Allura is still able to offer the support she knew Keith would need. He silently thanks her as he wipes away the stray tears that fall and the doubts that had been plaguing him melt away.

She smiles brightly, more than Keith has ever seen. It's a pure, excited, happy smile that makes her marks crinkle at the corner of her eyes. She looks as old as she should be if there wasn't a war to fight or a universe to be saved. She's just a young woman excited that her friends are getting married. Allura's joyous laughter echoes through the speakers, enveloping them in the love and warmth she always supported them with.

"I love you both so much!"

*

Coran informs them they need a witness for their marriage to be recognized by the Galaxy Alliance. Given the nature of their union, he suggests they pick someone from Earth.

"I'm not risking anyone from my family," Lance says, sitting on the edge of Coran's desk. "If my mother finds out I eloped, she'll have my head."

"Wow. Can't relate," Keith jeers, leaning against the desk next to where Lance is sitting, arms crossed over his chest. "We need to ask someone who can keep a secret, but is also reputable enough that if the council asks, they know who they are."

They call Curtis three minutes later. 

"Keith, slow down," he demands, a door closing behind him as he walks with the video chat into his private office at the Garrison. "All I heard was space council, Altea, and you getting a tattoo. What the hell is going on?"

Keith takes a breath. "Daibazaal wants me to renounce my Earth citizenship, and I need to make a case as to why I won't.” He holds up his hand clasped with Lance’s. “I'm marrying Lance to strengthen my argument."

"Uh, okay," Curtis replies slowly. "So you're arranging a fake marriage to try to convince an entire government that you belong on Earth?"

"No, it's a real marriage," Lance corrects him, waving his and Keith's hands in front of the screen. "We need a witness. Someone who can keep it on the down-low that we eloped."

Curtis’s eyes blink slowly as if his mind is imploding in on itself. Lance huffs, fingers snapping impatiently in front of the screen.

"Keith doesn't have a lot of time," he presses impatiently. "So what's it gonna be, man? Are you in or out?"

"You two are actually serious," Curtis immediately scoffs, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'll help. I will meet you at the Altean teleduv in a few vargas."

Keith grins. "Thank you, Curtis."

"Don't thank me yet," he smiles, motioning to sign off. "We still gotta get you hitched."

Three hours later, Coran and Romelle join them to wait by the teleduv near the castle. Romelle sits next to Keith on the bench, looking troubled. "I think Lance is a little nervous."

Keith leans back against the bench with a shrug. "What makes you say that?"

Unamused, she turns to Lance, who is currently walking in circles around the teleduv exit, kicking grass as he goes. 

"Lance, why don't you take a seat with us on the bench?" Romelle calls, hoping to gain his attention. He ignores her, continuing to pace angrily back and forth across the lawn. She looks back at Keith as if to say,  _ told you! _

Keith sighs, turning to where Lance is fretting. "Babe, can you wait with me on the bench?"

He stops in his tracks, staring at Keith wide-eyed. Then he nods, and quickly makes his way to the bench to take a seat between Keith and Romelle. Instantly, he takes Keith's hand between his own. Romelle makes a fake gagging noise, getting up to wait next to Coran instead.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just a little nervous. This get-hitched-quick scheme is taking longer than I thought."

Keith tilts his head. "Are you having doubts?"

"Never," Lance smiles, kissing his knuckles tenderly. "You're the easy part. It's everyone else that's the problem."

He laughs warmly, placing an exaggerated kiss on Lance's cheek. With a big pout on his face, Lance relaxes back against the bench.

“Why are you so calm? You’re the one with the bounty on his head.”

His mind goes blank with confusion like his brain cogs can't turn fast enough to take in Lance’s question. Lance’s brows are furrowed, his bottom lip jutted out in a pout. He holds Lance’s hand in a warm grip, not interested in letting go after working so hard to get this far. Every muscle in his body unwinds as a grin creeps onto his face.

“Because I’m with you,” he answers, simply. 

The skin surrounding Lance’s marks peek a light shade of pink. But then his color-infused cheeks dimple with a blossoming smile, his eyes shining in a way only deep happiness can bring. “Don’t use lines on me.”

Keith’s grin grows into a smirk. “It’s not a line. I mean it.”

“Stop!” Lance whines, playfully slapping Keith away to cover the blush rising on his ears. “You’re being too sincere with your emotions! I’m gonna make Coran check if you’re a clone!”

Their bickering is interrupted by the teleduv activating, glowing a soft pink as it whirls with energy. Coran checks the digital pocket-watch from his vest. “That must be Curtis - he sure is punctual.”

There’s a bright light and soon from the depths out flies a Garrison issued vehicle. It parks on the runway gracefully. By the time they make it to the door, Curtis has already unlocked the hatch. When it lifts up, they're met with the figure of Curtis, still in his uniform, but behind him stands Shiro, Pidge and Hunk. 

“Happy wedding day, I may have brought a few plus-ones,” he shrugs.

Lance lets out an indignant squawk. "Curtis, what part of me and Keith are  _ secretly  _ eloping did you not get?"

"What?" Shiro gasps, looking between the two of them before his wide eyes rest on Keith’s face. “You’re eloping?”

“I knew it! You  _ are _ together!” Hunk shouts, pointing an accusatory finger in Lance’s face. Pidge keeps walking, ducking under the display.

“Figured you’d out yourselves eventually,” she says, smoothly. “You two were disgustingly mushy at Lance’s party.”

Curtis slaps his hands on Keith and Lance’s shoulders. “If I came alone, Tak would never let me hear the end of it. And if the Galra has an issue with you two getting hitched, they can deal with us.”

Lance groans and Keith can’t help but laugh even though Shiro and Hunk look ready to burst with questions. When Coran presents 100 GAC to a baffled Shiro, his laughter intensifies. Lance shoves him with his hip, but it does nothing to stop his laughter.

“Stop it! This is a serious situation!” Lance tries to scold him, but the giggles continue to break through his lips.

Keith shrugs. “It’s our wedding day.”

Lance’s eyes light up, and it’s one of Keith’s favorites of Lance’s expressions. It’s happiness, but a distinct kind of happiness that’s almost gleeful. It makes his marks crinkle at the corners of his eyes, the blue crescents glowing steadily. “I guess it is.”

They’re interrupted by Coran throwing his arms around both their shoulders. “You’re all here right before the rainy season, too. Now, I personally have always found the flaming rocks to be a spectacular sight, though, given our recent tourism and hospitalization statistics, I could be in the minority of that opinion."

“Coran, I told you already - nobody likes fiery rocks raining down on them!” Pidge argues.

“Especially not humans,” Romelle adds insightfully. She pulls out a folder with important-looking pieces of paper. “Lance and Keith, for you to be formally recognized as spouses within the Galactic Alliance, I have Coran listed as your officiant, but I do need the name of the witness.”

“Can I be your witness?”

Shiro’s robotic hand floats up in the air like he is volunteering for some kind of tribute. “I know you called Curtis, but since I’m here I’d like to be one. If that’s alright?” 

Even knowing next to nothing about their arrangement, Shiro’s heart shines through the action. From the moment they first met, his brother has been a pillar of emotional support. When Keith nods, Shiro holds the pen Romelle hands with him so much compassion and kindness as he signs off as the witness to their marriage. Neither of them had ever been particularly religious men, but Keith knows this is Shiro giving his blessing to their union.

“Thank you, Shiro,” Romelle nods, taking the form back. Her brows raise when he rereads the signature. “Or should I say Admiral Shirogane?”

“Admiral?” Pidge echoes. “You said yes!”

“I did, but my yes is not as important as some others today,” Shiro chuckles, humble as always. “Even as Admiral, there’s no way I’d let anyone from Team Voltron get married without the whole team here.”

This gives Keith an idea. 

“Hey Coran, can I make a request on location?”

*

The seven of them stand beneath Allura's memorial. Behind them, the setting rays of Altea's dual suns bathe the sky in rich red hues blending with soft pinks and purples. The hill of her memorial isn’t a fancy one, and while the group of them standing together doesn’t look like any wedding Keith can remember seeing, it’s intimate.

While Coran is preparing his speech, Keith manages to sneak a quick moment with Allura’s statue.

_ I’ll take care of him _ , he promises, touching the base. He doesn’t feel anything from her statue, not that he’s expecting to. It’s not really her, just Altean marble. But in a gust of wind that pushes at his back and the tightness in which Lance holds his hands, he feels the answer he needs. 

Behind them on the grass, stand Pidge, Hunk, Curtis, and Shiro. Romelle scurries around Coran to hand him a holo-tablet. He speaks the traditional words translated from Altean, so not all the phrases make complete sense but it works well enough. 

"Marriage for centuries was essentially the enslavement of the woman in a clear hierarchy of male dominance through Galra rule," Coran explains. "I’ve recently learned that marriage of the same gender confounded the Empire. For it wasn’t clear who had the upper hand. And since nobody did, it was a magical reset button for the institution entirely. Suddenly the prime motivation for marriage was love, and it changed the system for all couples. Beautiful, yes?"

“Wow, Zarkon was an imperialist and a homophobe,” Pidge notes and Hunk shakes his head.

“That guy really did suck.”

“But not dick,” Lance can’t stop himself from adding and Keith snorts. From his peripheral, he sees Shiro roll his eyes, and Pidge and Hunk exchange high-fives. Coran loudly clears his throat, bringing everyone back into focus. He turns to them both.

“Now, do you have any vows?” he asks and they exchange a panicked look. In their rush to get married, Keith never once thought of writing vows. He figured Coran would do most of the talking until the  _ I do _ parts. 

Of course, like always, Lance surprises him when he needs it most.

“I can start,” he says, meeting and holding Keith’s gaze, their hands held tight. “Keith, if you told me three years ago we would end up here, I would have laughed in your face. Not out of disbelief, but from denial. For the first leg of our relationship, I spent it denying how much I idolized you, needed you, and missed you. You never left, not completely, even when you should have. Like the world’s most stubborn boomerang, you always found your way back to me, no matter how hard I tried to push you away.” 

Keith swallows hard, tears prickling the corners of his eyes, sticking to his lashes. It’s beautiful, and Keith feels like all the air has been kicked from his chest. It doesn’t feel real, but it is. It’s the most real thing he’s ever heard in his entire life.

“You never gave up on me, and every day you teach me not to give up on myself. I wish I told you this years ago, but I love you, Keith Kogane.” Lance beams. “I’ve loved you longer than I knew I’ve loved you, and I promise to never stop loving you.”

Keith’s stammers, completely floored by Lance’s words. “Oh...cool. Thanks.”

“Keith!” Lance hisses, and the hold on his hands suddenly feels more threatening. “Do not have one of your emotional constipation moments on me here!” 

“I won’t,” he promises, taking a deep breath in through his nose and out again through his mouth. Across his knuckles, Lance runs the pad of his thumb softly along the skin in comforting circles. “Lance, I love you. There aren’t a lot of things I know for sure in this universe we spend so long working to save, but I know that I love you from my core. I never gave up on you, because in all the realities we’ve seen, I can never picture one where I stop loving you. You wear your heart on your sleeve and feel every emotion with every fiber of your being. You broke through every single one of my walls in the most obnoxious ways, but through it all, you’ve been entirely yourself. I love you more every day, and there’s nobody else I would want to elope with after only being official boyfriends for a few hours.”

The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down Lance’s face. Keith must be in the same boat, as he can feel his chin tremble.

“Was that good?” Keith asks, voice cracking.

“That was great,” Lance assures, nodding and smiling through his tears. “That was really great.”

“Tak’s crying!” Curtis announces and Shiro’s voice breaks.

“No, I’m not! That’s Pidge!”

“Lies!” Pidge sobs and Hunk hands them both tissues from his vest.

Coran makes a motion and Romelle steps forward, in her hand is the case for the rings that Gwar gave them earlier.

“Lance,” Coran says, gaining Lance’s attention. “Do you take Keith to be your lawfully wedded spouse, recognized by this and any universe, through illness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

He smiles, blue eyes still sparkling with tears but full of certainty. “I do.”

Romelle hands Lance the silver ring, and he slides it on Keith’s finger. Just like earlier, the gem bursts to life with blue hues.

Hunk fans his face, tears streaming. “Oh my gosh, the rings are their lion colors! I’m gonna cry!”

“You’re already crying!” Pidge hisses and Shiro shushes them both.

“Now, Keith,” Coran continues. “Do you take Lance to be your lawfully wedded spouse, recognized by this and any universe, through illness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” he says so quickly, it almost takes Coran off guard. Romelle smiles when she gives him the ring. When Keith slips it on Lance’s long finger, he’s again shocked when he sees the burst of red explode from within the gemstone.

“By the power vested in me by the Galaxy Alliance, I now pronounce you both spouses for life...or even the afterlife, if we want to get technical about it.” Coran huffs, clapping his hands together. Shiro then leans over and whispers something in Coran’s ear. “Oh! And you may now kiss each other in front of us all - which isn't something Alteans usually do, but Shiro tells me is important.“

Behind them, Pidge cheers and Hunk lets out another sob. Romelle attempts to console him, but by the way her mascara is running, she’s no use.

Lance’s hands leave his and wrap around his neck - and Keith is completely unprepared. He would think after all the hours spent planning to elope, he would know what to do when they kissed. But Lance is a wild card, and Keith still isn’t entirely used to his warm lips pressed up against his own. It’s breathless, romantic, passionate but most of all it’s a promise.

A promise to be together. Forever.

*

They're staying in a suite in the residential part of the castle. After their ceremony, and a brief squabble over how their new last name would be hyphenated (McClain-Kogane won as everyone agreed it flowed best), their night was spent with a dinner together at Coran's request. 

Several cheers were had, and many glasses of Altean champagne were toasted. By the end of the dinner, Pidge was the only sober one as she was still too young to drink despite having multiple PhDs. Although Keith definitely saw her swipe a glass from under Hunk's nose. 

The room itself is more massive than anything that Keith has seen before. The walls are painted blue with beautiful murals hand-painted by one of Altea's most talented artists. There's a master bathroom that's so luxurious it makes Keith nervous that it could give Lance ideas for another re-model. Luckily, his husband is so excited to use the futuristic shower, he all but shoves Keith out of the bathroom. 

Kicking his shoes off, Keith collapses on the bed face-first in a heap of exhaustion. The pillows and blankets are so comfortable he could pass out right there.

In the corner of his eye, he spots the gold rim of a note left on their pillow. Rolling over lazily, he snags the piece of paper and holds it above his face, squinting at it.

_ Dear Keith and Lance, _

_ I did some extensive research into what Earthlings call a "Honey Moon" and did my best to set your chambers accordingly. You should find anything you may need for your night of romance within the drawer. Enjoy! _

_ Love, _

_ Romelle _

_ P.S.: The walls are soundproof. _

He's about to check what's in the drawer to see what she means when Lance bursts out the shower, hot steam from his shower rolling out behind him. He's wrapped in nothing but silk, blue, Altean robe that's falling off one of his shoulders.

"Babe, that shower was amazing," he sighs, collapsing next to Keith on the bed. "I think I want to replace the rainfall shower head with whatever that is."

"The hell you will," Keith scoffs, turning on his side to pout at Lance. "Unless you want to install it, we're keeping what we have."

Lance laughs and bops his nose with a finger. "I married such a grump."

Keith gasps, the term  _ married _ holding so much weight it feels like it lands in the space between them on the bed. Lance doesn't seem nearly at spooked, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile that hasn't left his face since their ceremony. On the nightstand sits their matching wedding bands, glimmering in the night light.

Laying dazedly, Keith makes no effort to put space between them, and Lance splays his hand across Keith's chest. It's soft and caressing as it explores the divots of Keith's muscles. Keith covers his hand with his own, squeezing.

"I'm sorry your family wasn't here," Keith says, watching guiltily as Lance's face fell. "They're important to you, and should've seen you get married."

"Yeah, but you're important to me too," Lance replies, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against Keith's. "And we can always celebrate back on Earth."

Lance scoots over to wrap himself around Keith in the bed. He closes the space between them with a chaste kiss.

"We'll make it a big deal, too," Lance promises against his lips, hands trailing down to Keith’s hips to unbuckle his belt. "Host it in the backyard and invite everyone we know. I'll parade you around to show off - my strapping, hot, half-Galra husband."

He leans in close, pulling Keith's belt through the loops and tossing it haphazardly behind him. Keith watches through hooded eyes as Lance goes through the usual motions of undressing him. The movements are clumsy and impatient at best. Still, something about the enthusiasm is really doing it for Keith. 

There's no distracting Lance from his goal. 

*

When they're both spent, Keith adjusts their position so that Lance is fully cradled in his arms, head resting on his chest and his breathing rising and falling with Keith's own as the tiredness begins to overtake them. Keith lays there, caught up in the haze of post-coital bliss and content to simply rest peacefully with Lance as their breathing gradually returns to normal.

He's just about to drift off into sleep when Lance's whisper reaches him.

"Keith, can I ask you something?"

The question floats around them in the chilly, darkness of the night. 

"You technically just did."

Lance shoves his arm, his cheek resting on Keith's bare chest. He shakes when Keith chuckles, causing him to swat him again. "I'm being serious."

"So am I," he muses, running a hand through Lance's hair. It's damp with sweat at the edges, and he can't help but be proud of his handiwork. Pulling his husband to pieces was sure to be his new favorite bedtime activity. "What's your question?"

"Are you okay with living with me on the farm when this - " he motions to the clock still ticking on Keith's forearm, "whole thing is dealt with?" 

Keith kisses the crown of his head. "I like the farm; it's peaceful."

"Won't it be boring, though? Comparatively."

"Maybe I want boring," 

Lance makes a noise that doesn't sound convincing. It's a noise that Keith wouldn't know what to do with a few months ago, but now knows it means that Lance is feeling a little shaky. Already Lance is starting to overthink everything he'd just said and done, the adrenaline of eloping wearing off.

Adjusting them on the bed, Keith changes their position, so Keith is over Lance, straddled between long legs and soft skin. He leans down, pressing a fleeting kiss to Lance's face.

"You're enough to keep me around, Lance."

"You really mean that?" Lance whispers in the dark, like speaking any louder might break the moment. Keith tilts his chin, so his mouth is easier to kiss.

"Of course," he whispers back, his voice filled with emotion. "I love you."

Lance's face beams. "I love you, too."

The next morning they pack up Keith’s ship and say goodbye to Coran and Romelle. Given the clock on his arm, he has half-a-movement to get to New Daibazaal before time runs out. Even with the teleduv, it won’t be a short trip.

Lance takes a seat next to Keith, still mesmerized by the wedding band on his finger. He tilts his hand towards the sunlight, captivated by the glimmer. Keith taps in the coordinates for Daibazaal.

“How are you feeling, Mr. McClain-Kogane?” he asks, leaning back in the pilot chair. Lance flexes his fingers. “Any regrets marrying me?”

“None, Mr. McClain-Kogane,” Lance replies, turning up to peck a kiss on his lips. “How long until we get to New Daibazaal?”

“Long.” Keith sets the flight course, the engines warming up. He runs a comforting hand through Lance’s hair. “Feel free to take a nap, I know you didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

Lance blushes, eyes snapping up to Keith’s and says in an accusatory tone, “And who’s fault is  _ that?” _

Keith laughs wickedly as they soar through the wormhole.


	8. Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Loudmouth,” she sighs. “Do you know that offering a deal negotiation with a Senator of any kind is illegal and will lead to you getting your own matching brand?”
> 
> Lance shakes his head. “I’m not here to haggle, Krolia.”
> 
> “Then what are you doing?”
> 
> “Apologizing."

By the time they enter Daibazaal’s orbit, Lance has been asleep for hours. Although Keith is used to the long trips around the quadrant, by how sleepy his co-pilot was, Lance isn’t.

Keith eyes the ship’s navigation to ensure they're still on course to land without smashing into anything. Once clear, he turns to Lance, running a gentle hand through his hair. 

“Lance?” Keith’s voice is so very soft. Lance grumbles. “We’re here, darling.”

He wasn’t one for pet-names, but figures being married seems like a good excuse to try some out. Lance blinks slowly, looking around the ship as if he’s rebooting his memories. He lets out a sleepy yawn. “Already? I just dozed off.”

“It’s been hours.”

“It has?” Lance grabs his arm, turning to see the brand like it’s some kind of watch. “Holy quiznak, how long was I out?”

“Most of the trip.”

“Geez,” Lance turns away from him to look out the window. Around them are signs for landing and guarded ships. “Are we going to have enough time to make it to the council for your hearing?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Keith replies, locking in coordinates and waiting for a transfer signal to request landing access. A few ticks pass before their screen is filled with the face of a bored-looking young Galra woman with a headpiece on. In the mic, she snaps gum loudly. 

“You are in the designated landing zone for New Daibazaal, the third planet of the Galaxy Alliance,” she relays in a dreary tone that seems scripted. “If you are Galra, please state your name.”

“Keith Yorak Kogane,” he says.

Lance harshly whispers next to him,  _ “Yorak?”  _

“Thank you, please hold,” sighs the attendee. She taps a hologram off-screen and quickly frowns. “Our database is not finding a Keith Yorak Kogane.”

Lance covers the mic with his hand. “Our paperwork may have gone in already. Try your married name,  _ Yorak. _ ”

“Shut up,” Keith hisses, swatting Lance’s hand away. He clears his throat. “Sorry, I was recently married. Try Keith Yorak  _ McClain-Kogane _ .”

She taps a few buttons. “Yes, here you are. Congratulations on your marriage.”

“Thanks,” Keith answers, looking at Lance. “My...uh... _husband_ is with me, too. Should I give you his name?”

“That’s not necessary, I have his file right here.” She pulls up a headshot of Lance from the Garrison. It was taken before they lifted off for their final fight with Honerva. He doesn’t have his marks yet, and he looks like a nervous kid in a uniform he barely fills out. It’s almost nostalgic. “Is this your husband?”

The question is enough to trigger something in Keith. He thinks back to himself in those days, although he was coming out of his shell, he was still learning what it was like to have friends. He remembers how much dread he had felt during those first few weeks on the ALTAS when Lance had followed Allura around like a lost puppy. Not even on the space whale did he see himself being married to the same guy that’s in the picture. He wouldn’t have even allowed himself to get his hopes up.

“Yeah, that’s my husband,” he smiles and next to him Lance blushes, too. It’s a new title to get used to hearing. “Do you need anything else?”

“Not really - oh!” She pops a small bubble with her gum. “Did you know there’s a summons out for you? It says here that you were branded earlier this movement?”

Keith sighs. “I am aware.”

“Perfect, so then you won’t mind me calling some  _ escorts  _ to ensure that you and your husband are lead  _ safely  _ to the general council in the capital?”

“Doesn’t seem like we have much of a choice,” Lance mumbles, too low for the woman to hear. Keith agrees, already feeling rather exasperated with the whole topic.

“Yes, that is fine. Do we have permission to land?”

“You do, thank you for your patience,” she says, before giving a grand salute that has become commonplace for Keith. “Vrepit to your sa, sir.”

“Likewise,” Keith nods, cutting the feed and waiting for instructions. Lance lets out an exhale like he’s been holding it in the entire call.

“Okay so.” He extends his three fingers. “First of all, how did we go years of knowing each other before I learned your middle name was  _ Yorak?  _ I am so mad at myself for not catching that when Romelle had us sign all that paperwork. Second, if we survive this, I need to take a new Garrison photo ASAP, because I look like a peanut. And third, what the fucking hell is  _ vrepit to your sa  _ supposed to mean? Is it a threat? A greeting? What are the context clues here, Keith? Keith are you even listening to me! I’m on Earth for two years and nothing makes sense!”

Keith continues to ignore his questions, instead, he guides the ship to the landing zone of New Daibazaal. 

Nervously, he flexes his hands around the grip of the steering wheel. While he’s thankful that Lance has willingly agreed to spend the rest of their lives together, the notion that those days could be spent avoiding bounty hunters and exiled from his own race sound like more baggage than is worth signing up for. For the first time since he left, he’s thinking of the consequences of his life outside of himself. He wants to be the kind of person Lance sees him as, even if he’s still not sure that’s entirely possible. 

Lance must be picking up on his anxiousness (not that he’s hiding it well) and extends a hand to his thigh, patting it comfortingly. “Hey. Relax. It’ll work out.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Keith asks, eyes still on the landing zone in front of them as they near the planet. “What then?”

“Then we’ll figure it out, together.” Lance shrugs, squeezing his thigh tight. “We always do.” 

*

The first thing that brings Keith back is the smell.

Beyond the horizon, a shimmering haze is illuminated by the setting magenta suns. In the far distance, the silhouette of the skyline pierces through the warm glow like a jagged mountain ridge. Millions of lights cause the dense mass of skyscrapers to glitter. 

Below them, the winding roads and bridges intercept like arteries. Its citizens are needle points, and cars are blood cells flowing through the veins of the city. No matter the time, in Daibazaal, the hustle and bustle never come to a halt. 

After they enter the planet's atmosphere, Keith's brand is enough indicator for two guards in ships to escort them to the court of the general council. Keith follows, knowing better than to disobey the order.

"Will they arrest you?" Lance asks when the roof of the council building appears. Keith shrugs.

"Probably will once we get out," he says, adjusting the controls to land the ship on the designated landing spot. 

Below them, he sees a few Galran residents scurrying around the busy sidewalks. Mentally, he imagines they are off for a movie or to chill out in a smokey, alien jazz bar.

"I wish I could've shown you the city under better circumstances," Keith sighs as the ship descends for a landing. "If we get through this, I'll take you to a decent gelato place."

Despite their dire situation, a smile slips through on Lance's face. "Gelato made it all the way to space, huh?"

As always, Lance's grin is contagious, and Keith can't help but smirk, too. "Oh yeah, it's a huge craze. Although most of the Galra are lactose sensitive, the stomach aches are worth it."

When the ship lands, the two guards are already exiting their vehicles. Together, they make the quiet march to their ship, hands never leaving the hostlers where their blasters rest. 

Lance squeezes Keith's hand again, one last time. His smile never wavers. "We'll go together afterward, right?"

There's a knock on the side panel. 

Keith leans into Lance and presses his lips reverently to the curve of Lance’s marks, skin stained faintly blue with their light. "I promised you, I will always come back."

Keith lifts Lance’s hand and kisses the ring on Lance's finger. When he lets go and unlocks the latch of the ship, he keeps his hands where the guards can see them. He doesn’t look away from Lance until the guards take him. 

*

The courthouse is new and soulless. Built of grey stone with thick walls, the bars on the windows are somehow not the most dreary detail. The building is narrow, and it’s clear the architects did not design the space to be used often. 

Before the Empire, he’s since learned the citizens of ancient Daibazaal were not ones who often showed mercy. For centuries, they were a people of intense honor and principal, with all misconduct being rectified by a swift battle or a blade to the jugular. Just walking around the room in which he was supposed to wait made Keith feel claustrophobic. It reeks of centuries of fear, like ghosts from fallen battles. 

A legal system was something the Galra were still getting used to.

When the heavy door clangs shut behind him, the light dwindles to less than he’d get on a storm cloud-covered day. Keith wonders if they build the courthouse like this on purpose to scare the defendants. It already feels like he’s been locked up like he’d never walk on grass or feel the sun on his hair or see Lance again.

In the middle of the room sits two armchairs on either side of a long, wooden table. On it, rests pads of paper and pens for notes. The awkwardness of waiting in the empty room has Keith pacing around uneasily. He isn’t sure what he’s searching for (maybe a tripwire or a bomb?), but doing a parameter check calms his nerves.

He’s interrupted by a heavy knock on the door, which is more of a pleasantry as it’s quickly opened to reveal a tall Galra woman with a tablet under her arm. Keith assumes it’s his lawyer, dressed in a crisp suit, her half-moon glasses perched on her flat nose. She’s at least three heads taller than him, and the clank of her two-inch heel echoes in the stilted courtroom air, striking the wooden floor as she storms up to him.

“Mr. Kogane,” she greets in a steely voice, extending her hand for him to take. “As required in the inter-planetary law set forth by the Galaxy Alliance, you have the right to an attorney. I will be your court-appointed representative for your summons. You may call me Kaltug.”

He shakes her hand. “Thank you for taking my case, Kaltug.”

“As stated, this was not my choice. I was appointed.” She takes a seat at the table and he follows her, sitting across from her as she pulls out her tablet. “Desertion isn’t a crime I see that often these days. It’s hard to abandon a planet that didn’t exist for centuries.”

“Hard to care about it, too,” Keith retorts.

She glances down at his file, scrolling through as if considering his options. The only movements are the swinging of the large gold hoop earrings that dangle from her tapered ears and the slowly blinking eyes that are the same hue as the wooden table between them. 

It’s a gesture he recognizes from his days in the system, the way his handlers would give his file a perfunctory read in order to placate him before they gave him the bad news. The family didn’t want him. The Garrison didn’t have a place for him. Now, he’s faced with the Galra not deeming him loyal enough. 

She glances up, serious but not entirely unkind. “Your mother being a Senator does not guarantee the council will be swayed. If anything, it makes them more likely to deny your plea. I advise you to take this hearing seriously.”

“Do you think I’m guilty?”

Kaltug doesn’t flinch. “As your appointed representative, that is not my duty.”

“But you live on New Daibazaal, right? So you must have an opinion,” Keith presses, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back in the chair. “Do you think I’m guilty of desertion for not wanting to renounce my alliance to Earth?”

“Mr. Kogane,” Kaltug says slowly, closing her halo-pad. “I truly do not give an uzuloo’s shit whether or not you stay on Daibazaal or Earth. Your half-breed status is something I can never comprehend, but as your lawyer, I don’t have to. All I need to know is that you’re a person I need to help, and we have less than varga to review your file and craft the strongest case we can for you.”

Keith again takes stock of Kaltug’s tailor-made, flawless, fresh-pressed suit. She holds herself with the confidence of someone totally in command of her thoughts and actions, certain of her abilities. The legal system for New Daibazaal may still be experiencing its afterbirth, but Kaltug is laser-focused.

She levels him with a devastating stare. “Now Mr. Kogane, are you going to keep acting like a brat or are you going to help me help you get the quiznack out of here?”

“McClain-Kogane.”

“Excuse me?’

“My last name is McClain-Kogane. I’m married,” Keith says simply, uncrossing his arms. “And my husband’s a dumb Earthling who believes I have a chance of convincing the council not to force me to renounce Earth.”

“Is your mate usually wrong about these things?”

“No.”

A smirk spreads across Kaltug’s face. “Well then, Mr. _McClain-Kogane_ , let’s not ruin that winning streak.”

*

The room where the hearing is held is down the hall from the waiting area. Keith's wrists aren't shackled, but the two burly guards are enough to keep him from fleeing. The brand is starting to tingle and itch under his skin. He fights the urge to scratch it. 

When they make it to the large double doors, Kaltug steps in front of him.

"You will stand before the seven council members, and the hearing will be overseen by Senator Kolivan. As you would expect, Senator Krolia has recused herself from the hearing. She will simply be attending to listen to the arguments, but will have no say in the verdict."

"How long will the trial be?" Keith asks, unsure if he is even allowed to ask questions. Kaltug seems only mildly irritated. 

"Most only last a few doboshes," she replies. "Justice is swift on New Daibazaal."

"And how often is the defendant found not guilty in these hearings?"

Kaltug pauses, lips pursed as she thinks. The claws on her hand tapping the screen of her tablet. She shrugs.

"I don't think it's ever happened."

“Then what’s the point of me even having a lawyer?” 

She stiffens, obviously insulted by Keith’s assumption. “As I’ve said multiple times, it is required by the Galaxy Alliance that all defendants are provided a legal representative. Whether or not said legal representative or defendant’s case is worth overriding is up to Daibazaal’s independent judiciary system, lead by the council.”

Keith’s eyes narrow. “So the game is rigged, and we’re just supposed to deal with it? This isn’t the kind of universe Allura died to save. Hell, this isn’t even the kind of universe Lotor wanted for the Galra-”

Kaltug slams her fist against the door, interrupting Keith’s argument. He’s crossed the line so far, he can’t even see it. Part of him knows this, and another part is relieved to see Katlug cares as much as he thought she did. 

“Watch your tongue,” she hisses, eyes flashing with fury. “I was a loyal soldier to Emperor Lotor’s court. While you and your paladins abandoned the universe, it was I and my fellow officers who worked to defend our small corner of the galaxy from Honerva and the Fire of Purification. I have spent my entire life facing a game that was rigged against me.”

“Then why keep playing?”

She takes a long inhale through her nose and adjusts her suit. “Because until the game is fair, people still need a defense.”

Kaltug turns away and pushes both doors open, marching down the aisle with heavy steps. The benches are empty, save for the ones in front where Lance sits alone, his leg shaking nervously. When Keith catches his eyes as he passes, he can sense the relief in his features. The rows of benches end and there is a table with two chairs. Keith has seen enough legal dramas to know that’s his seat. 

At the front of the room, in suspended seats, are Kolivan and Krolia, with the seven council members in a row behind them. When Keith searches Krolia’s face for any recognition, he can tell by the tired lines under her eyes what a toll this has taken on her.

Below the senators and the council, stands Acxa in her Blade uniform, blaster on her hip. When Kaltug and Keith reach their seats, she calls, “All rise for the dual senators of New Daibazaal and the grand council.”

Keith, Kaltug and the court guards remain standing. Kolivan nods.

“You may sit,” Kolivan’s voice booms, echoing off the walls. Keith obeys and sits at attention as the court proceedings begin. “Keith Yorak McClain-Kogane, can you confirm to the council that you are clear of the charges that have been sought against you.”

Keith nods. “I am.”

“For the council’s reference, the penalty of desertions results in loss of citizenship of New Daibazaal, termination of all military allocates within the Galaxy Alliance and rank demotion. The defendant may also face a life sentence of incarnation on New Daibazaal’s moon.” Kolivan turns to Keith again. “How does the accused plea to the crime of desertion?”

“Not guilty, Senator.”

The room is silent, aside from the nervous tapping of Lance’s foot, leg shaking where he sits. It’s a little bit disappointing, dropping a bomb like that into an empty courtroom. It would’ve been nice to hear at least one gasp of surprise. Kolivan continues.

“Would the defendant like to explain to the council the reasoning behind this plea?”

“The law is unjust,” Keith attempts to explain, bushy eyebrows knit tightly together as he struggles to find the words. “As a man with a heritage of both Earth and Daibazaal, I should be granted dual-citizenship to both planets. This will allow me to continue in my function as a Galaxy Alliance diplomat, and liaison between Daibazaal and the Galaxy Garrison on Earth.”

“Interesting take,” Kolivan hums. “It says in your file that you left New Daibazaal approximately three phoebs ago. According to the report filed by officer Acxa, your location was unknown to the entire Blade organization. Is this correct?”

“That is correct.”

“Can you explain for myself and the council how leaving a planet in the middle of the night without informing your squadron or kin of your location is not desertion?”

“Senator Kolivan,” Kaltug interjects. “There is no law on New Daibazaal that requires a curfew for travel and my client has the right to travel between planets within the Galaxy Alliance at whilm.”

“That is true, however,” Kolivan raises his holo-pad. “The defendant was tasked to appear before the court to undertake a loyalty oath, as was stated by the opposition party during Senator Krolia’s inauguration. Your client, the defendant, did not appear to take this oath. Is that correct?”

Keith and Kaltug exchange a look before Kaltug confirms, “That is correct.”

“Officer Acxa,” Kolivan says, turning toward her. “Can you please share with the council the events that took place when you located Mr. McClain-Kogane on Earth?”

Acxa nods. “Of course, sir.”

She walks before the elevated platform where the council sits with her arms behind her back. Keith wonders if she’s positioning herself so she doesn’t have to look at him while sealing his fate. 

“I landed on Earth on the moon’s 7th rotation, 29th quintant in the morning,” she begins. “I located the defendant on the grounds of the McClain farm off the Cuban coastline. The defendant refused the summons, and as indicated by interplanetary law Article Nine, I issued the summons via injection into his right forearm.”

“Was anyone else with you when you landed on Earth?” 

“Yes.” Acxa’s shoulders stiffen, and even though he can’t see it, Keith can already tell her cheeks are flushed. 

“Who?”

“My...girlfriend.”

“Awww!” Lance cheers from the back of the room and every Galra in the room turns to shoot a glare in his direction. He throws his hands up in defense. “Sorry! I’ll be quiet!”

Kolivan shakes his head and goes back to his questioning. “Was the defendant a prisoner of Earth?”

“No, sir,” Acxa replies.

“Was the defendant peddling information about New Daibazaal to foreign adversaries?”

“No, sir.”

“Was the defendant undergoing illegal activity or self-destructive behavior?”

“No, sir. He seemed happy.”

“Can you please share with the council what the defendant was doing on Earth, please?”

“He was building a house, sir,” Acxa explains, pointing to Lance. “The house owned by Lance McClain.”

“McClain-Kogane,” Lance corrects and another glare is sent his way. “Okay, I know I said I would be quiet, but the court’s record should show that Keith and I are married.”

Kaltug smacks her hand to her forehead. Apparently that reveal was something she was holding for later in the trail. Up on the bench, Krolia turns to stare at Keith.

“Senator Kolvian, may I question the defendant?” she asks and Kolivan blinks in surprise.

“Uh, of course, Senator Krolia.”

Acxa bows and goes back to her post. Kaltug elbows Keith, and he rises to his feet and quickly makes his way to the front of the bench. Even though there are several rows of people, all he can focus on is the exhausted look in his mother’s eyes and the guilt sitting deep in the pit of his stomach. In all his efforts to try and help his mother by leaving, once again he’s hurt someone dear to him.

He swallows to hold back any sign of weakness. The last thing he needs is to start crying in front of his mother during the hearing. It wouldn’t do anyone any good, so he holds back.

“Keith,” she begins, voice steady. “What was your motivation for leaving New Daibazaal?”

All the reasons not to come to this hearing come flooding back to him, as if Keith’s mind just sent them a blanket invitation. He knows his anxiousness will grow if he lets these thoughts swirl into a vortex of all the choices he could’ve made differently, eating their own tail. Or he can breathe in slow, let the thoughts leak into the ether and own up to his choices.

“I was born of Earth and didn’t know I was half-Galra until I began looking for answers,” he declares, shoulders squared. “My entire life I felt that I didn’t belong, and I thought after the war living on Daibazaal would allow me to finally live as my true self...but that wasn’t what happened.”

“Your allegiance was questioned, correct?” Krolia asks and Keith nods.

“Yes, and once again I was forced to make the choice of being human or Galra, and I’m both,” he announces. “I left to take the political pressure off my mother’s inauguration, but also to go to the one place where I know I could be myself.”

He turns around to face Lance, and he can’t hide his smile even if he wants to. “Lance has always accepted me with open arms and an open heart. I stayed with him, helped him build a house and fell in love. On that farm off the Cuban coast, I learned what it meant to be fully accepted. It’s a story that could only happen on Earth, but I want our story to be one that changes the laws of Daibazaal.”

Kaltug stands to her feet. “To the Senate and Council of New Daibazaal, my client’s story is not a rare one after the war. To demand loyalty to one home and sacrifice the other is an unfair choice as our people recover from the diaspora. Dual citizenship should be granted under the Galaxy Alliance and recognized by New Daibazaal.”

Krolia takes a deep breath, looking to Lance. “Loudmouth? Can you please come forward.”

“Of course!” Lance says hurriedly as he quickly stands and walks to Keith’s side. As if on autopilot, he takes Keith’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers together. When he squeezes, Keith's heart skips a beat. Having someone willing to stand beside him is something he's never allowed himself to want, but now with Lance standing proudly next to him, he's not sure how he would have survived any other way. 

Krolia’s expression doesn’t change. “As my son’s husband, you’ve taken an oath yourself, correct?”

“Well, we typically call them vows,” Lance says with a shrug. “But sure, it’s sort of an oath.”

“What did you say about my son...in these vows of yours?”

Lance smiles at Keith then, soft and sweet, and though Keith can see the worry lying under the surface, he knows it’s genuine. 

"That I love him," he says simply, his mouth still upticked at the corners. "And I'll always love him. I don't care about the legal mumbo-jumbo, he's the love of my life."

"And you’re mine," Keith answers, and there's nothing more he can offer in this court proceeding. If his love for Lance isn't enough to sway them, nothing else he can say will convince them

The council members nod to one another as they all stand to their feet and exit the bench to convene and discuss the testimony from Keith and Lance. Kolvian and Krolia follow, leaving the rest of them in the room to wait.

"They will be deliberating their decision now," Kaltug explains, turning towards the door. "I'm going to get some water while we wait."

Keith stops her, grabbing her arm. "Kaltug, thank you."

She pauses and pats his hand with her large one gently. "Thank you for reminding me why I'm a defender."

When she leaves, Acxa walks over to the table where he and Lance are standing. Her face is less stoic than usual, her eyes gleaming with guilt. 

“Acxa,” Lance greets, holding up his still bandaged hand. “Are you here to apologize for pulling me off a roof?”

“No, you shot at me,” she replies simply and Lance honest to god  _ pouts  _ like the middle-schooler he never grew out of being. She turns to Keith. “While it was my duty, I do regret that I was the one who had to summon you. I hope the council agrees with your plea for dual citizenship.”

Keith rests a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Acxa.”

She nods, turning back to the bench when Krolia returns first. “Looks like Krolia is back. You should take this time to speak with her before the council reconvenes.” 

He nods, even though his stomach tightens with the thought. Lance’s hand is still in his own and is pulling him to the bench whether he’s ready or not. When they stop in front of her, Krolia doesn’t seem impressed, but she does climb down the steps to meet them.

“Loudmouth,” she sighs. “Do you know that offering a deal negotiation with a Senator of any kind is illegal and will lead to you getting your own matching brand?”

Lance shakes his head. “I’m not here to haggle, Krolia.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Apologizing,” he says, eyes clear. “I proposed to Keith, and it was my idea to elope. There isn’t an ounce of regret in my heart for marrying your son. He’s a wonderful person and inspires me to be better every day.”

Keith cocks an eyebrow. “I feel like there’s a _but_ coming.”

“But.” Lance’s tone isn’t rejection, as much as acceptance. “I wish you could’ve been there, and I’m sorry that you couldn’t be. My family wasn’t there either, and after missing so much of each other already, it was selfish of me to sweep Keith off his feet and run off with him.”

“It wasn’t  _ that  _ dramatic. I mean, I drove us there.” Keith resigns, and Lance’s eyes are still so full of fondness. His mother sighs again and extends her hand out toward Keith. He takes in like it’s instinct, squeezing tight. How much he misses his mother makes his heart hurt. “I’m sorry, mom.”

“Don’t ever apologize for being exactly who you are,” she presses, voice hard as steel. “I was trying to protect you, and in the end, I only pushed you away. Your loyalty should have never been up for debate. You deserve to call whatever planet you want home.”

“Mom,” Keith’s voice low and wobbly as he tries to fight away tears. Krolia tugs his hand and pulls him into a hug, just like Lance’s mother had done when he left. He presses his face into the shoulder of her uniform, letting the few tears he’s allowing to fall dampen the fabric. 

“I’m sorry you were hurt, Keith. You deserve happiness, and I’m glad your heart has found it,” she smiles into his hair. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, mom.”

“Krolia?” Lance’s soft voice pulls her attention away from Keith to look at him. “After this is over, please come to Earth. We have plenty of space and my mother always asks about you. It'll be nice for the in-laws to celebrate together, dontcha think?”

Krolia’s smile creeps onto her face. Even in what seems like a losing situation, Lance is able to pull them through. "That is a very kind invitation, Lance."

The door crashes open, and everyone's attention is drawn to the council members and Kolivan marching back inside. Keith tugs Lance along with him as he goes back to his seat. Kaltug arrives soon after, swatting Lance away to his own seat. Keith's hands feel empty when he leaves. 

Kolivan clears his throat, bringing everyone's attention to him. "The council had considered the defendant's plea. Chief Councilman Zark, please share the decision with the court."

A short, stocky galra man with enormous bat-like ears, stands at attention. He reads from a holo-pad with thick spectacles. "The council has cast their votes for whether or not to recognize Keith Yorak McClain-Kogane as a dual citizen of New Daibazaal and Earth. May the defendant please stand."

Keith jumps to his feet, Kaltug offers sturdy support next to him. Zark reads, loudly.

"With three counts of nay, three counts of yay and one abstain, we are at a tie,” he continues and glances down at Kolivan. “As the law states, in the event of a tie, the Senators will be the deciding factors. As Senators Krolia has recused herself from the decision, Senator Kolivan we leave the final verdict in your hands.”

Zark sits back down and Kolivan seems shocked at the outcome. Krolia’s face remains unreadable as Kolivan acknowledges his duty as representative. 

Even when he was a member of the Blade of Mamora, Keith was impressed by Kolvian’s brand of leadership. He was different than Shiro, who managed to lead a hectic group of wayward teens while holding true to his morals and his kindness. Kolvian was a man with a righteous sense of justice and was willing to sacrifice any soldier, including himself, for their cause. The same trait that made admiration swell in Keith’s chest while being his subordinate was now making his heart race in fear. 

If he voted in Keith’s favor, it wouldn’t be because he had a soft spot for Keith, but because he truly believed it was the best course going forward for Daibazaal and its people.

“After hearing such a moving statement from the defendant and his team, it’s difficult to argue against the notion that New Daibazaal should be a planet that recognizes dual citizenship,” his voice booms. “The Galaxy Alliance already provides its citizens the ability to live and work freely across member planets, own property on any and all planets, and travel the galaxy with relative ease. The notion that loyalty rests beneath the flag of one’s homeland is a backward-looking idea that does not hold up in our modern galaxy that works together within a broader alliance.”

The members of the council exchange looks of thoughtful agreement, although Keith isn’t sure if that was more polite politics or if they are truly impressed by Kolivan’s argument.

“It is for that reason that I am voting in favor of the defendant’s plea for formal dual citizenship with Earth and New Daibazaal. Moving forward, the law of the land will reflect that there will be no more loyalty oaths or doubt cast upon those who live across multiple planets. There is no such thing as Not Galra Enough for New Daibazaal,” Kolvian slams both hands down against the table. “Keith Yorak McClain-Kogane, you are hereby cleared of charges of desertion. Officer Acxa, please clear his brand.”

Acxa nods. “Of course, sir.”

She slowly makes her way to Keith’s table. Shakily, he extends his right forearm for her to press the rifle of her blaster against his skin. A familiar burning sensation passes like a wave across his flesh before she pulls back to reveal clear, unmarked skin. 

“With that, I declare this hearing concluded!” Kolivan hits the table again and the room begins to clear.

Keith stumbles in shock, turning up to see Kaltug’s eyes blown wide at the ruling. They are the first defendants to win a case against the high council - they changed history.

“We did it!”

“There’s going to be court reporters outside. I'll try to stall them,” Kaltug’s blurts, blinking away her shock in favor of returning to the task at hand. She shakes Keith’s hand. “Congratulations, Keith.”

She weaves through the benches to leave the room, Axca on her tail as they work to buffer the onslaught of media coverage on the ruling. 

Keith stands still, processing what this ruling means to him and all of the Galra. Lance appears in front of him and extends a hand.

“Hey, love,” Lance smiles at him, close-mouthed and kind. “Let’s go home.”

Keith takes his hand, and they walk out of the courthouse together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is the Epilogue!


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance nuzzles against the back of Keith’s neck, making his skin vibrate. Keith can't hide his smile. "Mamá's mad that you whisked me away to elope in space.”
> 
> "If I recall correctly, eloping was your idea."
> 
> "Can't prove nothing," he grins, and his marks crinkle. One day he's going to get laugh lines there, but Keith doesn't want to be the one to tell him.

**_One Month Later_ **

Keith digs through cabinets and pulls out drawers searching for toothpicks. On the counter sits the latest appetizer Hunk has made for the guests outside, and he knows if he takes any longer, someone will come for his head.

"Tío Keith?"

Too late.

Nadia rushes into the kitchen in her yellow sundress, white sandals clacking against the floor as she runs.

"Don't run in the house," Keith scolds, on autopilot. He's still searching for the damn toothpicks. Like always, she doesn't listen. Instead, she hops up to take a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

"Whatcha looking for?"

"Toothpicks."

"Why?"

"For the food."

"Why?"

"So the people outside can eat the food."

"Why?"

"Because -" He stops when it finally dawns on him that he's being played by a kid. "I'm trying to find these toothpicks that your uncle keeps moving because he sees one home improvement show, and suddenly everything gets moved around! Not like he ever tells me where this crap is!"

"Tío Keith?"

Keith lets out an exasperated sigh, spinning around with his hands outstretched in frustration. "What is it, Nadia?"

She points to the small container of toothpicks sitting on the counter, right in front of his face.

He exhales and lets his shoulders fall.

"Thanks."

She hops off the stool. "Anytime, Tío!"

Once the appetizers are properly skewered, Keith makes his way out to the backyard. There are tables full of their friends and family, and a large hand-made sign that reads, "Congratulations!"

He swerves through guests as they pick the food off the plate piece by piece. By the time he gets to the table where he’s seen Hunk place the other dishes, it's already half-eaten. Romelle spots Keith when he walks up and puffs a strand of hair away from her face.

"Are you seriously playing host at your own wedding reception?" She groans, turning around to spot Hunk by the grill. "Hunk, for the last time, keep an eye on him!"

Hunk turns when he hears his name, grinning when he sees Keith. "Keith, stop helping!"

Keith motions to Hunk. "But he seems so busy, I can’t sit here and do nothing."

"Yes, you can," she urges, spinning him around and pushing him away. "Now go mingle. Shay and I can handle the rest of this."

After being literally shoved into a social situation, Keith takes stock of the party. Usually, this kind of celebration would leave him feeling cornered and uneasy. However, for once, he feels comfortable in his own skin, on his  _ home _ planet, surrounded by everyone he cares about. 

He can't remember the last time he felt like this - if ever.

"Keith!"

At the sound of his name, Keith turns to see Pidge waving him over. Next to her are Shiro and Curtis, who are concentrating heavily on something Matt's showing them on his phone. Even though this is technically their wedding reception, it’s more like a slightly fancier garden party.

"Hey Pidge," he greets, eyes resting on the scene in front of them. "What's up?"

Curtis looks away from the phone, a red solo cup in hand.

"Tak is having his first sit-down with the Garrison instructors on Monday. While he was overthinking the meeting, he's somehow gotten it into his head that all the kids would be using," Curtis pauses to make bunny ears with his finger. "Weird slang."

"Matt's trying to catch him up on memes," Pidge adds, motioning to her brother as he snorts in laughter at another video. Shiro looks even more confused. "It's not going well."

Shiro turns to Keith, eyes round as saucers. "Keith, am I old?"

"Yes," Keith replies quickly, and Curtis slaps his arm with the back of his hand. Shiro looks crushed, and it's so pathetic, Keith can't help but roll his eyes. "Shiro, c'mon, you don't need to understand whatever weird fad kids are into these days to be a good Admiral."

Pidge nods. "You were a great leader for Voltron and the ATLAS, and there's no way you knew half the inside jokes we were all sharing."

"Even I didn't get them," Keith insists. 

Shiro still looks put out, and Curtis rubs his back. "Don't worry, babe. I'll still listen to you."

Keith shakes his head and floats away to the next group of people to make small talk, accepting congratulations and hugs from strangers. His eyes scan the crowd, looking for the one person he wants to talk to.

It's the end of summer, and soon the long days will end, making way for cold nights. The backyard is tended with green grass and paved with smooth stone. Beyond the fence, the path leads to concrete Keith had poured to create a makeshift airfield. It's where most of the ships and cars are parked for the night.

Under the tables, he spots Kosmo trying to make himself scarce enough to grab scraps of food while no one is looking. He doesn't fit, and every movement he makes just causes small plates to fall off the edge anyway.

In the corner of the party, surrounded by roses that have been planted in circular beds, Keith finds his mother and Kolivan inspecting the flowers.

"Keith," Kolivan says as means of greeting. "The horticulture of your land is quite lovely. Please share my respect with your mate."

He sees that he means the bed of roses they've cultivated in the yard. "I never pegged you as someone who appreciated flowers, sir."

Krolia sips her drink, examining the land around them. "Many of the moon bases on which the Blades were stationed were unable to sow anything. It wasn't until I landed on Earth myself that I was exposed to the different environments this planet offers."

"There are different climates on this planet?" Kolivan asks, searching around. The expression on his face is one of genuine amazement. "I thought what we had seen during the war was all there was.”

She smiles, resting a hand on his shoulder. "If you would like, I can show you while we are stationed here?"

He relaxes. "That would be...quite lovely."

Keith glances between his mother and his boss, raising a suspicious eyebrow. "Uh...what is happening here?"

The freakout is interrupted by a pair of long arms wrapping around his shoulder. "Keith! There you are!"

Veronica’s blue eyes come into view as she leads him away from where the two Galra leaders are very clearly having a moment. "Mami is looking for you at the family table!"

Before Keith even has the chance to dig into whatever is happening with his mother and Kolivan, he's being led toward a long picnic table. There he spots his mother-in-law who is currently jabbing his husband in the chest. When Lance sees him, his eyes widen, and an excited smile stretches across his lips.

"Hi hon," he greets, waving him over and pulling him down to sit on his lap. Keith flops ungracefully, stuck in place when Lance wraps his arms around his midsection. "Please explain to my mother this reception is enough and we don’t need  _ another  _ ceremony,"

Keith looks across the table. Veronica takes a seat next to Acxa, who is inspecting the garlic knots Petey brought over. Apparently his summer fling with Rachel wasn’t as short-lived as she made it out to be. He also spots Marco, home from his summer abroad, snuggling with his newly announced fiancée Lucy. 

"Isn't Marco already getting married, Mrs. McClain?" he asks, thumbing at the happy couple. "I'm sure that's enough wedding bliss for now."

“Thank you, Keith!”

Lance's mother huffs with the exact face he's now seen across all of her children. "You can never have enough weddings, dear."

“Well, if you keep Krolia and Kolvian alone any longer you may get your wish,” Lance hums, tilting his head towards the Galra leaders. 

Keith groans. “So, I wasn’t hallucinating?”

“Nope and now my mom is off to meddle,” Lance giggles, as his mother leaps from her seat and makes a beeline to the rose garden. He nuzzles against the back of Keith’s neck, making his skin vibrate. Keith can't hide his smile. "Mamá's mad that you whisked me away to elope in space.”

"If I recall correctly, eloping was your idea."

"Can't prove nothing," he grins, and his marks crinkle. One day he's going to get laugh lines there, but Keith doesn't want to be the one to tell him. Not that Lance would believe him, anyway. "Maybe in a year we’ll have a third wedding. Y’know, if we're feeling up for another big project."

Keith snorts, glancing down to run his thumb across his husband's cheekbone. "Another wedding ceremony does not sound like a project. It sounds like a test of wills."

"One I'm sure you'll pass," Lance lifts his chin up for Keith to capture his mouth. He laughs against his lips, happier than Keith has ever seen him. Keith isn't sure he's stopped smiling since they removed the brand from Keith's arm and came back to Earth full-time. 

It's new, but they're working together to build their love into something beautiful and permanent. Their house is filled with so much joy, and just like Lance, Keith isn't sure he's stopped smiling since they’ve been back, either. 

Though to be honest, his smile began long before they returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who's been reading! I hope you can enjoy this fic safely from your homes.

**Author's Note:**

> New chapters are posted every Sunday! :)


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